Origins
by missrebecca
Summary: She is a mystery, a siren, who threatens everything he has been working for. He is an anomaly, the next step, and everything she has been hoping for. But when their world starts to crumble, can they survive the fallout? AU/Vamp Character death, violence
1. Chapter 1

Origins

A Twilight fanfiction

by missrebecca

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A staccato beat on ice cold stone is all that is heard in the tunnels. It echoes and ebbs as its creator twists and turns in the underground. A smile on blood red lips, a brush of almost grey skin through lush brown curls, then a laugh, high and chilling in the dark; but there is no one to hear it.

She laughs to herself often, hearing the voices in her head caterwaul and scream. The voices are not real, not anymore. They are long dead victims of something they did not understand until a second too late. Always so trusting of a beautiful face, so naïve. _Let them scream_, she thinks, even as they threaten to drive her into madness. It does not do to dwell on the past, especially when alone.

However, soon she shall not be alone. There will be many faces about her, many distractions just begging to be fulfilled. There will be blood, too - rivers of it for her to saturate herself in, and she will bathe in the luxury of it all. She can almost hear them, in the quiet of the tunnels in which she winds; laughter and screams, singing and sobbing, victors and victims - all clambering within the dark. She can barely contain herself.

How long has it been? Almost five hundred years? She's not sure, but it certainly has been long enough. They always want a piece of her, always want her to stay. They don't realise she is wild, feral, and not to be contained. Their stone walls don't hold her; they cannot suppress her spirit.

There will be questions, of course. Wonderments of where she has been all these years, and how she has evaded their spies, and she will only smile coyly, hiding her fangs and batting her lids until they forget they ever asked her something at all. It can be tiring, and yet she never grows bored of the game; for the game is all there truly is.

Finally, she reaches an old oak door, its wood rotting in places. She is not sure where it came from, but there are nail tracks in the wood, and a faint scent of centuries old blood that tell her she is better off not knowing. She knocks hard, sending splinters to the ground, and taps her foot for good measure; they knew she was coming. Eventually, a heavy bolt slides free and the door is swung inward. She does not look to see who opened it as she steps through and into the light.

It is poorly lit past the door, though not as dank as the tunnels previous, and she walks with a single-minded determination, ignoring the girl at her side who attempts to speak to her. She catches phrases, words of flattery, as she speculates about her. The girl recognises her from the stories she hears the Brothers tell, and wonders if any of them are true. She does not reply to the girl's inane blithering.

Dim filament electric lights line the stone corridors through which they weave, and she finds herself missing the old torches that used to stand in the now forgotten sconces. Firelight had a more natural glow, something electricity has taken from the world. She'll have to speak to him about removing them, she thinks.

In the midst of her mind's own rambling they come upon another door, at which the girl pauses for but a moment before being brave and pushing her way through. They are now in the central part of the castle, still underground and without natural light. The electric lamps are brighter here, though still they cast a sickly glow upon the few inhabitants they pass. All give her curious glances, before dashing behind doors to contemplate her existence.

She wonders if the girl knows she does not need a chaperone; that she knows the floor plan of this castle better than her own mind. But she humours her, for she looks so happy to be given this apparent honour, but when they step into the receiving chamber, she does not hesitate to march away from the girl.

There are many people here, standing stone still as their blood-red eyes feast upon her form. She's glad she chose this dress. With its knee length it could be modest, were it not for the flash of cleavage and the wide expanse of skin showing on her arms and back. Displaying every inch of smooth skin, they know her age and yet she holds no scars - it makes her formidable to strangers.

"Aro," she coos, as the dark-haired man in the central chair rises to greet her, grasping her hands as he bends to kiss her cheek.

"Isabella, such a wonderful surprise," he replies.

There is acceptance from some standing around the hall, and confusion from others. They question why she is so open to his touch, why she does not seem to worry about his penetrating mind. She would laugh and work to placate them. _Do not worry_, she would say, _my memories remain my own_. However, she does not, for then there would be questions as to how, and that is a secret she shares with only those she chooses to.

"It's been so long." She smiles to him, running her gaze across his shining dark hair and his almost paper-thin skin. He does not see enough sunlight and as such he is beginning to waste away. The sight pains her. "A surprise, you say? Surely you saw me coming."

"Alas," Aro replies, "Alice is…no longer with us." A raised eyebrow in place of a question has Aro continuing. "She will return, of course."

Of course, Isabella thinks, because no one leaves for long. Even she returns eventually.

"I see new faces. Introduce me."

It is a command, and the crowd watches dumbfounded as Aro complies. They marvel at her place in this palace, that she may command he who they know to be most powerful. Aro turns, allowing Isabella a view of the men who sit on either side of his vacated chair. She receives a pleasant smile from Caius, which she returns, and barely a nod of recognition from Marcus, from who she expects no less.

She is led to a line of five standing along the east wall, only one she recognises, the others are new to her.

"You've already met Jane." Aro begins, indicating the smiling blonde who led Isabella to the chamber initially.

"Indeed, she's young." Her tone holds an accusation, a promise that they will be discussing this later. Aro only nods before moving on to the next in line.

"Her brother, Alec." Isabella nods to the young boy, dark as Jane is fair, but does not offer her hand. His eyes are cold, and she moves on before he can tempt her to speak.

"Chelsea," she purrs around a smile, wrapping her arms about her friend's strong shoulders. The women embrace for what seems like an age, before the dark-haired Chelsea removes her arms in order to join hands with an equally dark-haired man at her side.

"Isabella," she begins, "I'd like for you to meet Afton, my mate."

"_Piacere._" She extends her hand, smiling as the gentle man takes it. Without another word, she moves down the line.

"Jasper Whitlock, ma'am." The last vampire on this side of the room nods his head, for he can see her authority, and his actions show he respects it, but there's a glint in his eyes as they meet, and Isabella smirks; she knows rebellion when she sees it.

His voice is light, yet rough as though his throat is sore, like a human. He is unkempt, his blond hair shaggy and matte, his nose is slightly crooked, and there is a thin line of stubble along his jaw. The appearance of Jasper Whitlock is so incongruous to nearly everyone else in the hall it gives her pause, and she finds herself staring into Jasper's red eyes far longer than she intended.

"It's Isabella," she says, before allowing herself to be led from the hall on Aro's arm.

* * *

Hello! and welcome to my new multi-chap.

This was originally written as part of the Easter Bunny Fic Exchange for the wonderful Lacrimosa Moon. I'm not sure exactly how long it is yet, as though most of it is written, I'm adding things as I go xD.

Big shout out needs to go to my wonderful betas. First to **Fairusa **and second to all the lovelies at PTB: **SecretlySeverus**, **4mejasper** and **mcc101180.**Without them I can guarantee this story would not have been half as well written :).

Anyway, I hope you like it, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think :)

Also! Most the chapters are about this length, though some are rather a lot longer and other's much shorter.

**Also must mention that there is character death (I'm not saying who) and bloody violence (this _is_ a vampire fic)**


	2. Chapter 2

Origins

by missrebecca

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Far later than she anticipates, she is led to her chambers, the rooms in which she always stays. They are cold from a draft coming in through the bare window, though the sun streams to the earth beyond the walls. The chambers are three stories up, high upon the back side of the castle, facing out to the private courtyard. She had disallowed anyone from updating, renovating, or living in the rooms since she had first proclaimed it as hers, so many eons before.

The walls are beginning to crumble, the window is free of glass and the rugs and tapestries she had adorned the walls with some five hundred years before are all but rotting before her eyes. With a suddenness that almost startles her, she rips the cloth from the walls, balling them in her hands before throwing them without reserve from the window. It is only when she hears a curse from the sun-filled yard below that she realises her mistake. Thrusting her head through the three-foot-square hole, she looks down to the blond head of one of the vampires she met the previous day.

After crawling through the window and dropping down to the ground, she dusts herself off before smiling brilliantly into Jasper Whitlock's frowning face.

"Didn't you think of looking before throwing that?" he asks, gesturing to the pile of tapestries nestled at their feet.

"It didn't hurt you, so why complain?" she retorts. He has no answer and instead continues on his march through the yard and into the shaded walkway. Isabella follows with her hands behind her back as she meanders beside him.

"How long have you been here?" she asks, her voice breaking the contemplative silence between them.

"Since 1892."

"That's quite a while to stay in one place." He ignores her.

Isabella continues walking beside him as he enters again into the castle and as he wanders his way through the hallways, up and down stairs, until finally Jasper turns to her, eyes blazing and annoyance rippling from him. She merely smiles sweetly, as if she doesn't know what is causing him such aggravation.

"Look," he begins, his voice almost silent, for her ears only, "I don't know who you are, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave me the hell alone."

"You don't know?" she questions. She is aware that the Brothers do not scream her existence from the rooftops, but generally those living under the Volturi's roof are aware of her.

"Should I?" he enquires.

"Yes."

He has no reply and scowls as he spins on his heel and continues through the basement corridor they have found themselves in. Isabella does not follow.

Caius sits beside her on the floor of his chambers; they are playing cards and enjoying the silence that encompasses them. Yet her mind is an endless circle of Jasper's words. It is a rarity that someone does not know her, her reputation tends to precede her, and so the idea that he has no clue still sends shockwaves through her. However, it intrigues her, just as Jasper does; though from the way he spoke to her, she doubts he will be very receptive to her company.

"Isabella, it's your turn," Caius says, finally breaking through her barrage of thoughts. She plays her cards before meeting her friend's questioning gaze. "Something on your mind?"

"Jasper Whitlock."

Caius smiles, nodding his head. "I thought you would be interested in him."

"I said nothing of interest. Only, he doesn't know who I am. It's...odd."

"How selfish of you, to think that everyone should know your name and quiver."

Her laugh is barked, and she throws down her cards, entirely too absorbed in the conversation to play any longer. "Who is he?"

"He was a Confederate soldier, changed at the height of the southern vampire wars, by Maria."

"My, my, well that certainly explains a lot." His blatant disregard for authority, no matter how hidden he tries to keep it, his strong stature and straight back, as well as the scars that litter his neck and arms. "Why is he here?"

"We captured their army in Arizona. Maria, however, got away. He traded information for his freedom; he knew where she was."

"So you captured her and killed her I assume?" At Caius' nod, she continues, "This is not freedom, Caius, you know that. Why is he really here?"

"Aro offered him a place, he accepted."

"I see, so he's gifted?"

"Aren't they all?"

Together they laugh at the elder brother's predictability, though Aro's fascination with collection has been wearing on Isabella for many a year now. She plays along and does not let Caius see the disappointment within her soul.

"Are our words our own?" Caius asks, eyes flicking to the door. Isabella smiles and pushes the bubble within her mind around them and against the cold stone walls.

"They are now," she replies.

"His companions were killed; I did not know their names. He was distraught, until Chelsea put an end to it. Yet there is emptiness within him. Marcus does not trust him, and I am inclined to agree with him."

"I see," she replies, frowning at the rain pouring against the jagged-paned window.

Caius laughs and stands, gripping onto her hand and pulling her up with him. "I know that look upon your face, Isabella. Just be careful."

"Why, I have no idea what you mean." But her voice is teasing, her eyes alight with the flame of curiosity, and as they leave his chambers together, wandering to the central hall where the meeting of the guard is to take place, she ponders at how she is to get Jasper alone. She never could resist a mystery.

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_Next chapter should be up Thursday/Friday _

_Loved reading everyone's wonderful reviews :D Please let me know what you think of this chapter :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Origins

Chapter 3

by missrebecca

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The hall is silent as the grave, the windows set at the top of the two-story room barely allowing any real light through. Isabella stands between Aro's and Marcus' chairs, a hand resting daintily upon the back of each. There are few members of the guard here; Felix, Demetri, Jasper, and Heidi the only others beside the three brothers and Isabella. She realises they can't be expecting trouble from the three captives before them if Chelsea is not at Felix's right hand.

"You understand the charges brought against you?" Aro asks, his voice ringing out to the three vampires kneeling before them.

They are two males and a female. The large dark-haired male and the buxom blonde are a mated pair; the third, rather solemn, redheaded vampire is separate. He makes this clear by the distance he keeps from the other two. His eyes flit around the room before finding purchase on Isabella. She glares until he drops his gaze back to Aro.

"We do," the large male speaks, the white knuckle grip he keeps on his mate's hand tightening.

"Do you have no justification for your actions?" Marcus asks, his voice bored, and Isabella barely quenches the urge to rest a supporting hand upon his shoulder; it would not be well-received.

"None," the woman replies, chin held high as she faces down her doom. Isabella almost smiles at her pride.

"Then you leave us no choice. You brought an immortal child into this world, blatantly disregarding the rules of our kind. Is there nothing else you wish to say?" Caius speaks.

"I did nothing," the redhead says, as his two companions sit silent and strong beside him. Isabella sighs for she can now see why Chelsea was not needed - self-preservation has kicked in and it is obvious that he is not prepared to die for the others' mistake.

"Yet, you helped hide them," Caius counters.

"A mistake." At his words the blonde scowls, while her mate drops his head. They knew their companion's loyalty would only stretch so far.

"Remove them," Aro passes judgement, flicking his hand as though he has not just sent two vampires to their deaths.

The third is left and Isabella wonders at his worth that he was not carted off with the others as he should have been. He rises slowly as Felix and Demetri return, keeping his eyes on the four on the dais. Isabella observes him as he looks between the brothers before focusing his attention on Aro. He does not seem frightened, as many are when they face down the rulers of their species, only awed. His chin is raised, not in defiance but in a cock-sure signal that he belongs here, and he does not drop his eyes from Aro's. He wishes to be a part of the guard.

"Take my hand," Aro says, smiling slightly as the vampire steps up to grip the paper-thin skin of Aro's fingers. Not two minutes pass and he is released. Aro sits back, tapping his fingers on the chair arm in contemplation.

"Interesting," he murmurs, sending a glance to Isabella. "Tell me, Edward," he addresses the vampire before him, "what is our beautiful Isabella thinking?"

She smirks, allowing her mind to conjure the image of Edward writhing beneath her, his blood a spreading pool around them as her fangs puncture his throat, and she wrenches it, severing it from his neck. All the while she stares placidly into his eyes; he sees nothing.

"I…can't," he finally admits, frustration colouring his words.

"Good," Aro replies, his smile slipping. "There is a place for you in my guard, but be aware, there are those here far superior to yourself. Take note." It is a barely veiled threat, and Isabella contemplates what Aro might have heard within the boy's memories. "Isabella, would you be kind enough to take young Edward to his quarters?" At a touch from Caius, he adds with a smirk, "Mr. Whitlock shall accompany you."

She scowls playfully at their meddling ways before sauntering down from the podium, gesturing for Edward to follow her. Jasper falls into step beside her as they leave the hall.

"You all seem very close," Jasper says, and Isabella smiles at the disgust laced in his words, as he comments on her relationship with the brothers. She knows what he must be thinking.

"Indeed, we are."

Before Jasper can speak again, Edward interrupts, his barely contained curiosity overcoming him; though his stoic expression would belay his inner turmoil.

"Why can't I hear you?" he asks.

"Because I don't want you to," she replies. Edward has nothing more to say.

They reach his chambers in silence, and Isabella gestures to the door. "This is yours. There's a robe within. You're free to go wherever you wish, but you must come to the main hall when called. Understood?"

Edward nods and enters his rooms. Isabella and Jasper are gone by the time he turns back to question her.

Down the corridor, Isabella walks towards her own chambers, Jasper by her side. The corridor is sparse, the walls stone cold as the lights buzz above their heads. She enjoys the silent companionship, yet wonders at what possible reason Jasper has for staying near her. Idly, she fingers the necklace that is never removed from her neck. The metal is worn, the silver tarnished and aged; the red jewels no longer gleam from their settings upon the crucifix. But it is sacred, and so she runs the cross reverently along the chain, thinking of the woman she received it from.

"It's an interesting necklace," he says, breaking the silence. Isabella smiles and nods but says nothing in return. "Marcus has something similar."

"Yes, they were gifts from a very good friend."

"His wife, Didyme?" he questions.

Isabella's feet stop their march, and she slides a look Jasper's way, before gripping tight to his shirt-sleeve and flitting with him into her rooms. Once there she seals the door, before pushing that glass case in her mind into each corner of the room, to keep their whispered conversation to themselves.

"Her name is not to be spoken here," she admonishes in a hiss, her eyes ablaze.

Jasper frowns, his eyes calculating in the dim light of her room. There is only the glow of the moon to illuminate it, though that is not truly needed. Their eyes reflect the beam, glowing in the dark as they stare each other down. Isabella does not know what it is Jasper is hoping to achieve, but she finds she enjoys the spark in his eyes, so often missing from those who spend so long within the confines of the Volturi castle.

"I'm aware. Why is that?"

"There was a great deal of pain in her passing-"

"Her murder, you mean."

Her hand is across his face faster than either thought possible. He does not stop her and only smirks when their eyes meet once more.

"You know not of what you speak," she growls. As she brandishes her hand to the door, he captures it, and Isabella attempts to ignore the sparks that had been ignited when her palm made contact with his cheek. She frowns in confusion when she cannot pull her arm from his grip, an act which should have been effortless with her superior age.

"I'll see myself out." Then he is gone, leaving Isabella shaken and alone in the dark, wondering why she wishes he was still with her.

* * *

So I think I've got into a posting schedule! Mondays and Fridays :).

Have to say a big thank you to everyone who has put this on alert, favourited it or reviewed it! It all means the world to me :).

Let me know what you think, and teasers for the next chapter go out with review replies :) Unless you don't want them! In which case let me know please.


	4. Chapter 4

Origins

Chapter 4

by missrebecca

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Through the crenulations at the height of the tower, Volterra is a buzz. It is market day, and the humans' mill around buying fresh fruit, flowers, and clothes from the many stalls below. Isabella and Chelsea watch, arms crossed on the parapet, knees on the roof, as their prey go about their lives, unaware of the vultures that sit and wait.

"I wasn't sure you were ever coming back," Chelsea says, brushing at the flyaway strands of hair that escape the tail it is tied in.

"I'll always come back," Isabella replies.

Chelsea drops from her kneeled position, leaning back against the parapet and staring at Isabella until she matches her position. They are old friends; vampires who have been around the Volturi longer than many in this castle. It is a strong bond, though not one that lends itself to easy conversation.

"Where have you been?" Chelsea asks.

Isabella contemplates the question, staring off into the sun filled sky. Five-hundred years is a long time to wander alone, though she managed for the most part. During her times away from the castle she makes a determined effort to avoid any vampires with an affiliation to the Volturi. Though the spies Aro sends after her are often hard to shake, it is not impossible to do so.

"Everywhere," she finally replies. "Most of my time was spent in England. Our kind are only sporadically found there, it makes it simpler to hunt."

The younger vampire smiles before turning mischievous eyes to Isabella. "And I suppose you were alone, that whole time?"

"Of course not," Isabella laughs. "Around the Scottish borders, I ran into an old friend."

Chelsea pulls her thick dark hair from the tie it is kept in, and begins working it into a thick rope-like braid. "Anyone I might know?"

"Perhaps, does Carlisle Cullen ring any bells?"

"Of course," Chelsea replies. "He turned up about a century after you left. Very aggressive. I believe he scared Aro a bit."

Isabella smirks. "I know, I sent him here to do just that."

"Ah, intimidation tactics. Well, they worked." Chelsea shuffles, throwing her waist length braid across one shoulder, as though making herself comfortable. "What else did you two get up to?"

"Exactly what you're thinking. For seventy-four years, before Carlisle found Esme."

Chelsea mockingly cringes. "Discarded for another woman? Nice."

"Not quite. Esme's his mate, and Carlisle's older than I am. I couldn't have been happier for him."

"Yes, Aro was…puzzled that he had not come across Carlisle before." Chelsea's statement is a question in disguise, and Isabella muddles with the truth in her mind before deciding that in this case, the truth can do no harm.

"He has a gift, he is able to hide himself from view of…everyone."

"Like you?"

"No, much better than me." Isabella smiles, contemplating how to explain her friend's tricky gift. "It is intrinsic to who he is. You cannot smell, see, or hear him if he does not want you to. Trackers cannot find him. He is invisible to all, but those he chooses to expose himself to, and me of course."

"Of course. How did his mate find him then?"

"It's bizarre, but as soon as he saw Esme his disappearing act simply…vanished. He was completely exposed to her, it was instinct for her to see him."

The younger vampire smiles as she relaxes into the parapet. "What is she like?"

"Young, very young. But sweet, she may be the kindest person I've met since…well, you know." Chelsea nods and Isabella continues. "Her maker left her to fend for herself, and you know how I feel about that."

"Yes, though I think it's a little ridiculous."

"A maker is responsible for their creations, no matter how old they become." Shaking herself from the dark confines of her mind, Isabella turns a blinding smile to Chelsea. "But enough about me, tell me about Afton."

The younger vampire is sufficiently distracted, and begins an in-depth explanation about exactly how she and her mate met, allowing Isabella to drift away upon her own thoughts. Her ideals on the matter of creators and their creations have always held fast, never wavering once. However, at the turn her thoughts take, she resents the responsibility and what it could mean for her near future.

* * *

Just a short little chapter :) Let me know what you think won't you :D


	5. Chapter 5

Origins

Chapter 5

by missrebecca

* * *

Sparring is an age old tradition within the castle. Once a week, vampires test their strength against one another, hoping to best the other. It is a pastime Isabella has always enjoyed watching, though she rarely partakes. She stands upon the balcony of the war room, little Jane by her side as they watch the men below them.

"He moves very fast," she comments, watching as Jasper once more bests an older and therefore seemingly stronger opponent. Felix ventures away with a good-natured smile upon his face as the next, Santiago, steps forward.

"Oh yes," Jane replies, smiling as the fight moves below them. "He's far stronger than he should be. I'm twice his age and yet he has such strength over me. It's amazing."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"Not sure, but I know that's the main reason Aro wanted him."

Isabella slants a look towards the small blonde girl at her side. She had been on the road to berating Aro for keeping such an obviously young girl in his ranks, but Jane was twelve years old when she was changed and therefore just old enough. Isabella cannot help but pity Jane, however, for she would hate to be stuck at such a young age for eternity.

"It is his gift then? His strength?" she asks.

"No. Aro calls Jasper an empath. He is able to feel and manipulate the emotions of those around him."

"I see. Useful, I'm sure."

"Indeed. He is not permitted to leave the castle, though, except on missions where there are more than two to accompany him." Jane says it as though talking about the weather and not the fact that a man is trapped within the old walls around them.

"Excuse me?"

She shrugs as Jasper vanquishes yet another opponent. "I don't know, really." Suddenly Jane turns to Isabella with a wicked grin upon her face. "You should go down there," she whispers. "You're the oldest here. I'm sure you could beat him."

Isabella laughs, glancing down to Jasper rolling his head and shaking Santiago's hand. "He's stronger than me," she admits.

"Perhaps, but I hear you have a secret weapon of sorts. He needs someone to knock him on his backside."

Isabella contemplates the idea for but a second before she is sauntering from the balcony to the main floor. Her stilettos send sharp cracks echoing through the room, and she smiles to those she passes. From her skirt pocket, she produces a ribbon, which she uses to tie back the hair from her face. Jasper's skin is fractured in places, where the other vampire's stone skin has collided with his own. It is greying, too, a sure sign that a feeding is in order.

He smirks, flicking his hair from his face and exposing a single dull fang. Isabella smiles, recognising the threat, and exposes her own in a wide smile. Being of such an ancient breed, her four pointed canines glisten in the dull moonlight filtering into the room.

"We both know you're weaker than me," he taunts, back hunched in an offensive crouch as they circle one another. Isabella, in contrast, stands tall, hands behind her back. She knows she cannot beat him on strength, but as Jane said, she has a secret weapon.

"Come at me then, brave warrior," she sneers.

Finally he moves, his feet propelling him towards her. It is an obvious attack, insultingly so, and Isabella's ire spikes. The heightened emotion allows her to expand the glass wall in her mind. The wall, so useful at keeping other vampiric gifts from affecting her, that allows her to shield herself and others from the hearing of others should she choose, has another function, one which has taken her nearly two millennia to perfect. The wall as it expands is no longer glass, but vampire skin. It is tough, impenetrable, and Isabella pushes it with force towards the racing Jasper. She watches gleefully as he rebounds from the invisible barrier, pushed along with it 'til it traps him against the chamber wall.

She stalks forward, to the sound of jeers and caterwauls, before crouching in front of Jasper's slumped form.

"My, my, brave warrior, what has happened here?" She leans in close, pulling her once more glass bubble to them, cutting off outside noise before she speaks, parroting the words Aro had spoken less than three weeks previously to their newest recruit. "Remember, there are those here far stronger than you. Don't underestimate anyone."

Then she stands, releasing him from her shield. She is weak from the strain of forcing the wall from her mind, and as she looks to her hands, she sees cracks appearing in the rapidly greying skin. Forming fists to stop the shaking, she leaves the hall, trying to erase Jasper's fire-filled black eyes from her mind.

* * *

**So it's Thursday...but it feels like Friday to me! So I'm posting a chapter lol. The last one was so short, as is this one, therefore the next chapter should be posted on Saturday when I get home from work :).**

**I'm discovering, through your simply wonderful reviews, that there's quite a lot of mystery to this story - which I knew of course, I wrote it - but I suppose I didn't realise how much, being so close to the work. It's quite nice to see all you splendiferous readers getting...confused isn't the right word, but it's the one I'm going to use lol.**

**Anywho, here's a chapter, I very much hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think and teasers go out with review replies...unless you'd wish to stay quite firmly in the dark :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Origins

Chapter 6

by missrebecca

* * *

In the wine cellar, Isabella stands with an old stone chalice in her hands; it is stained red from the pint of blood she has devoured, and she watches as her skin regains its pale flesh tone. The chalice is carved, and crude, something she picked up in Rome after leaving the Volturi for the first time. It is the oldest of her possessions, and the closest thing she has to her human years.

"Knew I'd find you here." The voice from the corner almost makes her jump, and she smiles at how lost in her thoughts she was that she did not notice Jasper's approach.

"Did you?"

She turns her head enough to watch him saunter towards her, hands in his jeans pockets and shirt unchecked. Isabella tries to imagine one of the brothers, or any of the guard, in clothes like Jasper's, but finds it impossible. He is entirely too different from any of them.

"It took a lot out of you, that little trick of yours."

She hums her agreement, finally turning to face him. Behind him she can see the sneck is drawn across the door before turning her eyes back to his. They are dark, a sign he is in need of a feeding, and she blindly fills the chalice from the barrel behind her, offering it to him in silence. He drinks deep but doesn't finish the dark liquid, instead passing it back to her. She frowns slightly before meeting his challenge and drinks from the same cup. There is such intimacy with sharing a meal, and Isabella wonders if Jasper understands that.

He is staring at her in a way that sends chills through her; it is a look she is familiar with, though her response is not. Never has she been so affected by someone, and she finds she greatly enjoys the emotions within her. With no outward signs, she drops the shield from her mind, allowing him to taste the changes in the sensations within her. A slight quirk in his brow is the only sign that he is receptive of them.

Slowly, he steps in closer to her until his toes sit beside hers and their chests are almost touching. There are sparks between them, and Isabella is so ready for this moment that she only smiles before Jasper bends to slant his lips over hers.

Over the few millennia she has walked the earth, Isabella has had many a dalliance within the confines of the Volturi castle. However, none have made her feel as _alive_ as this one single kiss. Her body feels hot, a sensation quite unfamiliar to many of the undead; she swears she can feel her heart ricocheting in her chest, though the petrified organ hasn't beat in too long to even mention. His lips are soothing and excitatory all at once. There is such a need within her, a need to claim, to bond, to _mate_, that she smiles within the embrace, for she never believed this could happen to her.

Yet after too little time has passed, she pulls back, disentangling Jasper's hands from where they have wandered beneath her skirt and to her hips. She runs her palms from his crown to cradle his strong jaw. His eyes are ablaze, dark in their passion, and for a moment, Isabella questions her motives for her subsequent actions.

After pressing a light kiss to his lips, pulling back before he has chance to respond, she smirks and steps around him, flitting to the thick oak door. The static is still there, just as powerful, if not more so, now they are apart. It begs her to return to his side, to meld their flesh and entwine their bodies until they are one. Yet, she denies the urge. Isabella is such a proud creature, and though it pains her she fights against such base instincts, needing time to assimilate this new aspect of her existence.

"Where are you going?" he asks, but she only smiles as she lets the synthetic light into the cellar.

"Every girl wants to be chased, Jasper." Then she is gone, leaving Jasper alone, unsatisfied, and baffled beyond belief at what he is to do now.

* * *

**It's another short one, but one I hope you like :) I'm still working on chapter 8, but once it's done I shall post chapter 7 :) which should be around Tuesday. I've just completely fucked up my posting schedule but oh well! I always knew I would lol.**

**Thank you once again to everyone who has put this on alert, favourited it and reviewed it. It honestly means the world to me :).**

**Teasers for Chapter 7 go out with review replies...unless you don't want to be teased in which case let me know :D**


	7. Chapter 7

Origins

Chapter 7

by missrebecca

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Blood trickles onto the floor of the feeding chamber, running in rivers down the cambered floor to the drain in the centre, where it will wait to be collected for the cellars. Fifty humans entered the room, tourists believing themselves to be on a grand exploration of the ancient Volturi castle; none shall leave. Not all members of the guard are feeding; there are those still required to watch the walls and guard those within.

Isabella is close to the far right wall, farthest from the door, where only the bravest – though she imagines the most naïve – shall venture. There is already a cadaver lying at her feet as she ravages the second's throat. There are those in the hall who do not spill an ounce of blood during a feed, like Aro and Renata, but Isabella has never been so neat. She makes a mess of her victims, leaving them unrecognisable as even human to the unassuming eye.

The woman to which she clutches is nearly drained when the door to the hall bangs open. It is unheard of to interrupt a feed and those, like Isabella, within seats of power hiss and growl in disapproval. But it is Afton standing in the door, eyes wide with both fear and pain, and Isabella's voice stops as though stolen.

"Chelsea is missing," he gasps, his eyes begging those in the hall to help.

Isabella is by his side in less than a second, the carcass of her human left beside its husband, its dead eyes bloodshot as they roll towards the ceiling. She takes Afton's hand, attempting to both comfort him and calm herself. It could all be a misunderstanding; it could be nothing.

"When did you last see her?"

"Last night, she left on reconnaissance with Jane, Santiago, and Jasper. They have returned, but she has not. None have seen her."

There is a ripple throughout the hall; it is shock, confusion, and fear. Isabella does not take her eyes from Afton's as she leads him to the main hall, where she seats them upon the dais, on the floor below the brothers' thrones. She does not chance a look to Aro, instead looking to Caius, for she knows the eldest brother must be quaking at the loss of Chelsea. She is the only reason most of the guard are still with him, and she's sure everyone present is aware of that.

Still gripping Afton's hand, she waits for the brothers to speak as the remainder of the guard file into the hall. She begins to lose hope that anyone will say a thing when Marcus monotonously asks for those in Chelsea's excursion party to come forward. They do with bowed heads, and Isabella watches them with a speculative stare, waiting to catch a liar.

"What happened?" Caius asks, taking charge as Aro sits stoic, fingers steepled to his chin.

It is Santiago that replies, in Spanish, before coughing and starting again in English. "We headed to the foothills of Vesuvius; there was word of a rampant coven slaughtering those in the local villages. We split up and agreed to rendezvous some three hours later. Chelsea did not show."

"Did you search for her?"

"Of course, for near to eight hours. She was nowhere, neither was this coven."

Finally Aro speaks, his eyes narrowed in contemplation, as he looks between the three vampires gathered before him. "Was there _any_ sign of a coven?"

Afton is on his feet, attempting to wrench his arm from Isabella's. But here she has the advantage, and she holds him in place. "That is your concern? The _mission_?"

"Quiet!" Isabella hisses.

Aro does not acknowledge the interruption and waits for Santiago to reply, though it is eventually Jane who speaks. "No. There were no recent deaths, at least none that were suspicious and certainly not the amount we had predicted."

Aro simply nods, before standing and walking from the hall, Caius and Marcus in tow. Isabella does not stop Afton from leaving in a rage behind them; she does not have the strength. Instead she sits on the dais, running a braid of her hair through her fingers, lost in a millennium of memories with Chelsea.

Those that have gathered leave the hall slowly as they begin to feel Chelsea's loss. Jasper, however, moves to the platform to sit beside Isabella, taking her hand as he does so. The sudden blanket of sadness and loss he feels tell him she has them encapsulated in her soundproof shield.

"Were you truly unable to find her?" she asks, avoiding his probing eyes.

"Yes."

After looking around the hall to the stoic faces and confused eyes Isabella turns to Jasper. She takes in his slightly stubbled jaw, his thin lips and crooked nose, before allowing her bright crimson eyes to meet his.

"She's dead," she states.

"How do you know? Maybe she's just sick of this place."

Isabella is shaking her head before he's even finished speaking. "Everyone feels it, those who were under her influence anyway. And she wouldn't just leave Afton."

Jasper frowns and stands, taking Isabella with him. Eyes follow them as they move, though they take no notice. The blond warrior doesn't speak again until the door of Isabella's chambers is shut behind them.

"You don't feel it? Her missing influence."

Isabella tuts playfully, though the action is only half-hearted. "Her manipulative ways never touched me – not that they were needed to begin with."

In the sunlight pouring through the window, Isabella watches Jasper's muscles twitch beneath his skin. He is as pale as paper, his skin greying and cracking around the scars on his neck – he's hungry and Isabella hopes, as his eyes pass along her, that it is not simply for blood.

As he steps towards her, he speaks, "Remind me to ask you about that, some other time."

Then his hands grasp onto her waist, and he pulls her closer till their thighs are almost entwined and her breasts are pressed against him.

"Surely I've chased you enough?" he whispers, his voice gruff with want and anticipation. Isabella only nods in return before his lips are on hers.

She knows there is no stopping now; the need is too strong between them. That they held off at all, if only for four days, after their first kiss is nothing short of miraculous. Their bodies are captured in each other's arms, their fingers searching for clasps, hems and zippers, until with their clothes strewn on the flagstone floor, Isabella tumbles them to her bed.

The wooden frame creaks and groans but holds firm against them. She is dominant and voracious, but so is he. Unlike any of her partners in the last two thousand years, Jasper is able to overpower her, and it does not take him long to spin them. There are no gentle caresses, no playful flirtations or time for bodies to prepare before he is sheathing himself within her in one powerful thrust.

Her groan is wild and her shield drops. Her hips undulate in erratic synchronisation with Jasper's thrusts; off beat and fitful, they move as one. Her nails scrape his back, and his hands clench in her hair, tugging her head back to feast upon her lips. They are consumed by each other, a fire raging within them threatening to burn them from within. Isabella never wants it to end.

Yet end it does in an explosion of growls and screams. Without conscious knowledge, their teeth latch eagerly to their partner's shoulders, marking them as their own for all eternity. The mate-bond, so strong from their initial meeting is sealed with bite marks and dual climaxes. Only one heart in the room is excited about the idea of being mated for eternity.

* * *

**Not much to say after this, except thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter :D, and I hope you like this one.**

**The next chapter is _almost_ finished...almost. It should be posted on Friday, there's literally like...200 words to go on it lol.**

**Anyway, let me know what you think :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Origins

Chapter 8

by missrebecca

* * *

Deep mahogany wood lines the stone walls of the room, reflecting the candles lit upon the equally dark, stained table. It is a medieval addition to the castle, one which Isabella oversaw herself. It is a warm room, in which cold decisions are made. Portraits of the brothers cover the walls, spanning their long life. In some Isabella is beside them, in others their wives. But in all the three men are strong; this room is testament to their longevity, something Aro is paranoid might now be at stake.

"It was obviously a ruse, a trick to get Chelsea out of the castle," he says, pacing behind his chair at the head of the table. Isabella sits at the opposite end, with Caius and Marcus adjacent. All watch as Aro slowly loses himself to his fear.

"You're being ridiculous," Isabella says. "If that were true then it means that one of those in her troupe murdered her. But you've touched them and combed their minds; you've had your psychic attempt to catch them off guard. None of them understand what happened."

Aro turns on her, his once red eyes black with rage. His skin is flaking around his hair line, as the splinters wind their way towards his eyes. The lack of sunlight makes the brothers fragile, and they must feed twice as often in order not to disintegrate.

"We had solid evidence of a coven massacring humans. One even wrote a bloody article about it! And yet, my guard arrive and there is nothing. Not one scrap of evidence that any of it is true." His chest is rising and falling in his fitful fury, and after running shaking hands through his hair he attempts to calm himself. "I am not suggesting we have a traitor in our midst; it is fairly obvious we do not. But someone lured Chelsea out there, someone destroyed her."

It is difficult still for Isabella to imagine her long standing friend gone from this world. That someone could destroy her is the most troubling information. Her mind is cast back to their last conversation, upon the roof about those who create vampires. Chelsea didn't understand, but Isabella's feelings are from an ancient and very sensible place. There was a time when the only creature who could destroy a vampire was the one who created it, simply because they were older and therefore superior in strength. However, Chelsea's creator had been slaughtered many hundreds of years before, and there are few vampires in the world with both the strength and inclination to destroy her, the linchpin in the Volturi strength.

"The guard are aware of her demise then?" she asks, ignoring Aro and asking Caius instead.

"Some are, those who were under her influence, anyway. There are those already planning on leaving the castle."

"Who?"

"Heidi, the Amazonians. There are others, but those are the most fervent in their want to flee."

"And you're going to let them?" she questions, realising too late how her words could be taken.

Marcus' hands clench to fists upon the table, his mouth pressing into a thin line. However, he does not speak.

"We will allow them to leave, of course we will," Aro says, sending such a guilt-laden glimpse to his brother that Isabella must drop her gaze. None are innocent in this room.

"You're not seriously afraid of what might happen, are you?" Isabella asks Aro. His pacing stops and his shoulders drop before he replies.

"No, we survived without Chelsea at one point, and we shall survive without her again. Afton, however, will need to be watched."

On that, all in the room are in agreement. The mate bond is one unlike any other, and lends itself to eternal companionship within the species. However, when one half of the pair is lost the other is left bereft, and very often goes mad with grief, and a mad vampire roaming the Volturi castle cannot be allowed.

"Isabella," Aro says, rolling her name across his tongue, "I believe that is all you're needed for, you may go."

She laughs, as though she's going to leave them to continue conspiring. "I think I'll stay, and help you decide how to go on."

His smile slips, his eyes taking on the blank look of an ancient leader. "Allow me to rephrase, I want you to leave, we do not require your assistance."

"_Excusare_?" She is astonished, dropping back into a more native tongue.

"You are not a ruler here; neither are you a part of my guard. Your opinions have no impact on us. Now, close the door after you."

Your _guard?_ Her thoughts revolt, as she stands from the chair. Her expression is placid, her eyes cold as they scan to Caius and Marcus. The former looks almost sheepish, ashamed by his brother's tone; the latter does not even lift his gaze from the wood grain.

"I'll go, as you say, I'm not a part of your precious _Volturi_. But don't forget who I am here, it's why I return, so you never will."

Aro only bows his head in response, and Isabella quenches the urge to slam the door after her as she leaves. As it is, she cannot stop her hands from clenching at her side as she stalks through the halls. There is only once place she wishes to be; only one itch she wants to scratch.

He's waiting for her, in his chambers with a book in his hands, though it is dropped to the floor as he stands to meet her in the doorway. Their arms encircle as she attacks his lips with her own. Her skirt is lifted and he is inside her mere seconds after her enraged entrance. The stone behind her crumbles beneath his thrusts, and her nails claw at his shirt, tearing it from him so she may touch skin and soothe the ache within her.

It does not take long for them to reach that electric peak together, and like all the other times they have mated there is no basking in the afterglow. Jasper returns to his bed and to his book as Isabella rights her skirt and hair. She casts one look over her shoulder before she is gone from his room. The union makes her cold, but she cannot help but smile now that the itch is sated. She knows that eventually they will speak; it's only a matter of time.

* * *

**Very much hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up. It's not finished yet and I have my first exam (3.5 hours written) on Tuesday. I'm stressed beyond anything which to me equates to a loss of appetite, lack of sleep, ridiculously vivid dreams, and generally just crapping myself. So (all going to plan) I should post the next chapter after the exam on Tuesday, however it might be closer to Wednesday. OR! Maybe I'll surprise you and it'll be Monday, who knows? I certainly don't, obviously xD.**

**OH! and chapter 9 teasers are up on my new blog! missrebecca12 . wordpress . com / fanfiction. So if you'd like to be teased head on over there :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Origins

Chapter 9

by missrebecca

* * *

The main hall is once again crowded. A runner from one of the outlying Volturi guards, one of many stations they keep around the globe, has brought word of a gathering army deep in the dark forests of the Czech Republic. It is commanded by a scorned female, whose mate was slaughtered by the local coven. Her answer to the slight is to change a slew of humans into vampires all at once and use them to fight her battles for her.

It is the Volturi's prerogative to stop her.

Word is the army consists of around twenty newly created vampires. It will require an experienced team of older guard members to destroy them, for while younger vampires are almost always weaker than their elders, newly created vampires are the exception. They have strength far beyond their years, though it lasts only one month after their turning. Felix and Demetri are to be the core members, with Jane and Santiago as outliers. Isabella watches from her place lounging in Caius' throne as he attempts to determine who else will accompany them.

"I'll go," Isabella says. All eyes turn to her, Caius is surprised, but it is only Aro who speaks from his position near the rear of the hall.

"No, you can't."

Isabella's brows rise in condescension, her lips twisting into a combative smile. "Excuse me, I _can't_?"

Shoulders back Aro stalks to her slouched position, his eyes telling her to keep their conversation hidden. Isabella finds the entire thing highly amusing, he should know by now that he cannot control her. It is she who holds the power here; it would appear that five-hundred years have caused him to forget that. When he is inside her sound proof bubble he speaks, attempting to keep his face neutral for those outside.

"I won't allow you to leave this place on a mission like this. You're not part of the guard, and I cannot risk your safety."

Isabella laughs, right in his face. She can see the fury lurking beneath the surface, but knows that he will not strike her – as if he even could.

"Why not? I'm the strongest here," _in this room_, she qualifies in her mind, "and I'll return to you, don't worry."

"Why must you undermine me? I say you cannot go, therefore you cannot go."

His cold eyes, thin lips, and definitive and words send Isabella into a fitful anger. She does not change her position in the chair, but her eyes are alight with embers of cold disgust when she speaks.

"As I told you before, you need to remember who I am here. You may rule the vampire world, but you do not rule me, nor shall you ever. I see now I should never have left you for so long. Mark my words, it will not happen again." Fluidly she stands, brushing down her skirt as she struts from the dais, removing her protective wall of silence. "I will be going, Aro. I suggest you accept that."

Soon after, the guard are assembled, official Volturi capes in bags strapped to their backs. They will be running to Krasny Les, to a spot deep in the dark forest where the vampire's army is hiding. After the traditional blessing from Marcus, the group files out of the main hall and towards the moonlit night above them.

As she walks, Isabella sees Jasper to her left, standing in a doorway, staring blindly at the group. She attempts to catch his eye, hoping for a farewell, but he avoids her gaze, and she is bewildered and hurt still as they break from the underground to the Volterran streets. Since their initial mating Jasper has been distant, not avoiding but not actively seeking Isabella out. The discord and the skewed distribution of power in their relationship, if that is even what it is, is slowly driving her mad. Reminding herself that she is a powerful vampire, that she got by for millennia before her instincts got in way and brought _him_ into her life, does not help. He is under her skin, and while part of her revels in the union, another part resents the fiery need for him that has been awakened in her blood.

They take off running as soon as they pass the city walls, and reach their destination just as dawn is breaking. The new sun rising helps to clear Isabella's mind, and by the time they are clustered about a local map her thoughts are set on nothing but the mission at hand.

"What is the directive? Capture as many as we can?" she asks, receiving only negative responses.

"For a breach such as this we destroy all combatants. The local coven shall be left, so long as we do not encounter them," Demetri replies. He was brought into the guard by Isabella some seven-hundred years before, and though he attempts to keep it hidden there is disappointment in his tone over this change in Volturi strategies.

"So we simply destroy them?" A round of nodding heads is her only reply.

They set off in the direction that the scout told them the army had made their base, Volturi cloaks about their shoulders. The six-strong line is a significant show of force, though Isabella doubts that most of those they shall be facing are even aware that the Volturi exist.

They are upon them in minutes; the army is actually a ravenous group of ten newly created vampires. All have grey, cracked skin, and their leader is nowhere in sight. They are made quick work of by the stronger Volturi guards. Black blood litters the forest floor as Demetri and Felix collect the bodies and heads into a pile to be disposed of.

Only one of the new vampires remains – a boy, barely older, physically, than Jane, who stands beside Isabella before him. The whole scene sickens her, and yet she knows there was no other alternative, not when their leader ordered their destruction.

"Who created you?" she asks, her tone formal and detached.

"V-Victoria," he stammers. His black eyes dart around the field, afraid of what will become of him.

"And where is she?"

"Headed north, towards Suchá." The boy is silent for a moment, before words are tumbling from his lips. Platitudes and pleads for his life, he begs their forgiveness, but Isabella knows he shall find none. She leaves, running north, before Demetri can silence the boy.

The wind sails by her, her feet bare upon the leaf-strewn earth. She feels free out here, away from the stone and the metal, away from the humans and their destruction. Here she is primal, more animal than ever, here she can be the supernatural monster she always wishes to be. It is how she spends most of her time away from the Volturi, simply running wild through the few places of the earth the humans have yet to desecrate.

The other vampire's scent is strong, and it does not take Isabella long to catch up to the flame-haired beauty. In truth, the female was not trying too hard to flee. As soon as she spotted the dark cloaks of the Volturi, she knew she was caught, but survival prompted one last attempt at escape.

Facing each other, Isabella's hand grips tight to Victoria's arm. The younger vampire can no longer move without removing the limb, though the inclination is not there to even try.

"You are Victoria?" Isabella asks.

"I am, and you are the Volturi guard."

"Not personally, no. I'm simply on a field trip."

Victoria attempts to smile, but does not succeed. "Going well?"

"Depends on who you ask."

The red-head shrugs. "I'm asking you."

"Then I'd say no, it's not going well. The _army_ we came to punish is destroyed, and their leader actually _wants_ to die." There is a question in Isabella's gaze, one which she does not need answering. "Your mate was destroyed; you did not expect to come out of this alive."

"If it wasn't you, it would be them," Victoria says, tilting her head towards the north, and the coven who stole her James from her.

"You understand what I must do?"

Victoria only nods as the tears collect in her eyes and spill over onto her cheeks. They glisten in the dappled sunlight, a slightly pink mix of blood and venom running in tracks from her jaw. As Isabella moves behind her, she wonders if they are tears of joy, or simply fear. She knows that no matter how prepared, no one ever wants to die.

Victoria's head is removed swiftly, and her body burned to dust within seconds. Isabella's heart is heavy, and the static under her skin that she has come to associate with Jasper is buzzing. After balling up her cloak and placing it atop the burning pyre she returns to the others, before turning and sprinting back to Volterra.

She needs to be held in his arms – she needs to know that he is safe.

* * *

**Pretty sure this is the longest chapter, so far.**

**My exam is over! Hooray! Reckon it went alright 'nd all, so here we go, you get chapter :).**

**I have lots of work to do on some of the upcoming chapters, things to add in and take out, but I'm hoping to keep up with my posting schedule, though it may drop back to once a week until my next exam (and last exam) is done on the 22nd May. Very much doubt it'll come to that though :).**

**Oh! And you all need to check out my lovely friend Fairusa84's story As Destiny Strikes. It's pure fluff and so pretty! Big contrast to this lol, so if you're looking for something a little more lighthearted go check it out :). And she beta'd this chapter for me, and was super quick and amazing, so yeah. Check out her story and leave her praise :D**

**And as ever, please, let me know what you think :) It's horrifically nerve wracking putting something up and simply wondering whether people like it xD**


	10. Chapter 10

Origins

Chapter 10

by missrebecca

* * *

The stone chapel is ice cold, its stained windows that sit high in the ceiling frosted over on the inside. It is the coldest Isabella has known Volterra to be. She lights two candles, one for Chelsea, as she has for the past month since her death, and one for Victoria, before kneeling in a pew and praying to the silver and red cross clasped in her hands.

"I never saw you as the religious type." Jasper's voice clears the silence; Isabella startles, having not heard his approach. Inside she thrills, it is the first time he has sought her out since they mated; it is usually she who is the instigator in their dalliances.

"I'm not," she replies, barely casting a glance his way.

"Then who're you praying to, if you don't believe in God?"

"A human god, you mean? I pray to my gods."

She can almost feel his condescension, though she knows he does not allow his own emotions to penetrate the minds of others, as he speaks. "And who might they be?" He sprawls across the pew behind her, his fingers twisting themselves into her hair.

"I pray to those who have passed; to Eleazar, Iona, Didyme, and now Chelsea. I pray for them to look after Afton, and to welcome Chelsea into their halls."

Jasper does not reply, choosing to keep silent, allowing Isabella to continue in her murmured prayers. Eventually she ceases speaking and stands gracefully. She gestures for Jasper to follow and then proceeds to wander out into the moonlit courtyard. They sit themselves upon a stone bench, hidden in the maze of rhododendrons and roses; she encapsulates them in her shield and waits for him to speak.

"I have a few questions," he says, playing with her fingers without meeting her gaze.

Isabella smiles, not bothering to hide her joy. For the past three weeks since she returned from Krasny Les, it has been only she asking the questions. Though not too intrusive, they have opened him up to her, in a way she desperately wished to do also. She wishes to love him, and is steadily on her way, but knowing that Jasper is seemingly opposed to their union, that he may not even _like_ her is heart-breaking.

"Ask away, do you still not know who I am?"

He laughs sharply. "No, I don't. But I figured I'd wait for you to tell me that, when you're ready."

"If you wish. So, what do you want to know?"

"I was actually wondering about your appearance, your dual pairs of fangs in all honesty."

"I see…" She is quiet, wondering how to approach this subject – wondering how much she can say without giving herself away.

Jasper continues before she can reply. "Only I once knew another like you, but no one else."

"Maria?" she questions. Jasper nods but stays silent. "Are you aware of the human concept of evolution, survival of the fittest?"

"I am."

"Well, sort of the same applies for vampires, though in not such a complicated fashion. We are not nearly as evolved as humans are.

"Originally vampires were…an entirely different species to humans. They were beasts, with large red eyes, grey skin which held no body hair; they had clawed hands and feet, and a mouth chocked full of pointed teeth. They burned in the sun and required blood to survive; they were humanoid in appearance, but barely sentient.

"The original vampires, like us, were immortal – to an extent – and the males enjoyed capturing and raping young human women. Four months would pass and a new creature would erupt from the unfortunate human. This was the birth of more modern vampires."

Jasper is entirely engrossed in what she is saying, his eyes boring into the side of her head as she stares blindly into the darkness. She barely notices his grip upon her hand as she continues.

"As with any child of two different species, the children were infertile. However, they retained only the most useful traits from both parents. They lost most of their fangs, leaving only two pairs; their skin was still grey and their eyes still red, but they looked much more human, and they were as aware as any human of the time. They were fast, like their fathers, but could walk in the sunlight. But they still needed blood to survive.

"Maria was the last to be born as a vampire; all others now having been created, like me."

"But if you were created, how is it you have so many of these characteristics. And that doesn't explain why everyone else here only has one set," he questions, eyes squinting as he attempts to follow her explanations.

Isabella turns her eyes to his. "Evolution. The original vampires were wiped out by their children; they were simply out-competed and perished. The first generation of vampires, those that were born that way, were venomous, and after thousands of years, eventually vampires were being drawn from the ground, or wherever they were hidden, with only one set. It's not something I can truly explain."

Jasper frowns, searching her eyes but finding nothing to answer his query. "How old are you?"

Isabella laughs, long and loud. "Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady her age?" However, then she shrugs. "I was changed by Maria, like you, and she was around ten thousand years old when she changed me. Does that give you any idea?"

"Maria was almost double that when she died," he says incredulously. Isabella only nods. "And you were changed by her?" Again she nods. "Then why don't I have dual sets?"

Isabella smiles to the moon, soaking in its glow. "You have something better."

Before Jasper can pester her to elaborate, a body rushes into the courtyard. It is waif-like, with inky hair and almost stone-grey skin. Her eyes are pitch black, the white almost obscured she is so hungry, but she grins so wide when she sees Jasper and Isabella that any wariness they might have felt is vanished the instant their eyes catch.

"Alice!" they each exclaim, ignoring the other as they wrap the tiny vampire in their strong embraces. With the return of Alice, at such a turning point in their courtship, Isabella can only begin to imagine what is about to happen in the Volturi confines.

* * *

**Well, there we are. Some questions answered I hope :) and some new ones opened up, too.**

**I really hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think and sneak peaks of the next chapter go out with review replies...unless you don't want them :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Origins

Chapter 11

by missrebecca

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Isabella enjoys seeing Aro's barely concealed surprise when Alice saunters beside her into the receiving chambers. Their hands are clasped, and Jasper walks behind them, before taking his place beside Felix. Alice is wary beside her, but the clairvoyant holds her head high before the brothers' eyes, and there is barely a moment of hesitation before she takes Aro's proffered hand.

"Look who I found wandering the courtyard," Isabella says.

"Glad to have you back, Alice," Aro says, smiling slightly at the petite vampire. "Go feed before you crumble," he dismisses her with a wave of his hand. "Isabella, could I see you for a moment?"

It is phrased as a question, yet she knows the truth of the statement; there is no room for arguments here. So, with her head held high, she steps onto the dais, following Aro to a room off the back. It is an office of sorts, a room of his own for his solitude; she does not extend her shield for them, and he does not shut the door.

"Marcus has informed me of your relationship with Mr. Whitlock," Aro speaks, as he sits himself behind a large claw-foot desk. He speaks as a father to a daughter, and Isabella pushes down the urge to laugh out loud. "Congratulations."

He is silent, as though awaiting a reply. "Thank you?" she murmurs, off balance at not being able to guess his intentions. They have grown apart in the five hundred years she has been away; it is a distance she cannot afford.

"We shall arrange for a room for the two of you—"

"That's not nec—" she begins, for they are not nearly at the stage in their relationship where they can share a room.

"Nonsense, if you are to be here permanently from now on, you need your own space. I must say it will be nice, not having to wonder at where you go for _centuries_ on end."

Isabella is caught off guard, and for a moment, she contemplates extending her shield, but Aro meant for the others to hear this conversation. He wants them to hear how he can command her, the oldest here and the most aloof. It is a show of power so underhanded that it makes her blood boil with fury.

"Excuse me?"

"There are…special circumstances surrounding Jasper's tenure here. I would assume as his mate you would wish to stay by his side."

Her mind is spinning, but there is no course of action that would work in their favour. She _likes_ Jasper, enjoys his company and his conversation; he's her _mate – _the very idea of leaving him…it does not bare thinking. But, to never be able to leave the Volturi's watchful eyes is a terrifying thought, one she cannot deal with while Aro is watching her every expression.

"Of course, you're right."

Aro clasps his hands, wearing that smile Isabella has come to associate with his smugness at his own cleverness. "Wonderful." He has nothing more to say.

Isabella leaves the room, refusing to make eye contact with those still left in the hall. She ignores Jasper as he walks beside her and shuts her door in his face. It is almost three weeks before they next speak.

* * *

**So, not very long but I think a fair bit happens here. Please, let me know what you think.**

**Next chapter we see a little bit more of Isabella. Sneak peaks go out with review replies :D**


	12. Chapter 12

Origins

Chapter 12

by missrebecca

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Cool air brushes across the rubble, strewn across the floor in one of the oldest parts of the castle. Isabella has been here for hours, beating out her frustrations on the walls, demolishing the history bit by bit. She wishes for something less breakable, something more tangible to rip apart. However, she knows she is better destroying rocks, than going in search of a vampire to take out her ire upon.

"Caius won't be happy you've done this to his castle," a tinkling voice calls through one of the holes Isabella has created.

"He'll have to get over it, I'm afraid," she replies, turning to smile wickedly at Alice.

The small, dark-haired vampire hops lithely across the flagstone floor, skipping around the dust that was previously the outer wall. Coming to a stop, she sits delicately upon a large stone from the wall, brushing off her skirts, before turning her bright crimson eyes to Isabella.

"So, what did the wall do?" Alice asks politely.

Isabella only rolls her eyes, clenching her hands into fists once more as she replays Aro's words within her mind. The audacity of him to speak to her that way…Had it been anyone else, their head would quickly have been removed from their body.

"You know what happened," Isabella says, finally turning to face Alice's petite form.

The clairvoyant nods, smiling sadly to the ancient vampire before her. Aro's missive to Isabella is the talk of the castle, as all within wonder at how the balance of power is seemingly shifting. It is a confusing time for all, but Alice knows that for Isabella it is far worse.

"It will not always be like this," she says.

"I know that, of course I do. Eventually Aro will allow Jasper to leave, and I with him."

Alice laughs, the sound low and dangerous. "Do not suppose that he will have that power for much longer."

"What did you say?" Her brow is furrowed, her beautiful, red lips parted in shock as she presses Alice for information. "What have you seen? Tell me now."

"Flickerings of change. These next few months are vital in our…_evolution_, as a species."

"How so?" Isabella pushes, hating Alice's cryptic words. But the dark-haired fae simply smiles coyly, shrugging her shoulders as if within her mind are not the answers Isabella seeks.

"You are so frustrating," Isabella growls, turning back to the wall she is rapidly decimating.

It is silent between the vampires for a moment; the only sound that of the rocks steadily crumbling within Isabella's fingers. She imagines them as Aro's long-dead heart, and her satisfaction is marred only by the fact that the rocks are not, in fact, attached to Aro in any way.

"There was something else I wished to speak to you about." Alice's voice is strong within the dark, and Isabella sneers, already knowing what her old friend wishes to speak to her about.

"I can guarantee I don't want to hear it."

"Tough, I'm saying it anyway. You need to apologise to Jasper."

In a whirl of ire and irritation Isabella brings down the wall. Dust and rock fly every which way, while the pair of vampires stay silent and still as they wait for it to settle. The reinforced ceiling holds, despite the wall being removed. Isabella is panting, though her body does not need the excess air. Her fury towards her mate is irrational, and yet she latches onto it, for it is easier than repentance.

"And why should I apologise?" she seethes. "This whole fucking affair is his fault!"

"You know that's not true," Alice replies, her voice placid in spite of the stronger vampire's anger. "He had no control over any of this."

"He's here isn't he? And now I've lost myself to him." In agitation she ambles around the room, shoving grey hands into her darkening hair. There is a static on her skin, and she knows only one person can soothe the itch – but she refuses to give in.

"You haven't lost yourself, he's your mate. You've waited for him for thousands of years, and now, what? You're trying to push him away?"

"He consumes me, Alice. I forget who I am around him, forget the obligations I have in this world, the responsibilities. For God's sake, my shield drops when I'm around him, and I don't even realise until after the fact. That's never happened!"

Alice smile is condescending, her eyes old and distant as she stares at her fretful friend. "He's your mate, he loves you."

"He doesn't love me. We're mates, but we're little more than friends who fuck. You spend too much time in the future, how about you keep your mind in the present for once."

Her friend's eyes are patronising, and suddenly Isabella wishes for someone who does not know so much about both her past and future.

"It does not matter if he does not love you now, because eventually he will. And then it will be for eternity. Your love shall stretch on and on until the stars evaporate. What is now is irrelevant."

Isabella sighs, knowing she cannot argue with the small woman's clever words. "You speak of change, what do you mean?"

Alice shrugs and stands from the rock, turning to exit the room. "Only that everything has its time on the earth, all things must be born and most things must die, or fall, or…_evolve_. What you consider your responsibility is slowly being taken out of your hands. Keep an eye out, and please, do not allow someone else to undertake it."

Her words leave Isabella cold, surrounded by the rubble of the castle. While cryptic to others the words make perfect sense to her, and she sincerely wishes they didn't.

* * *

**Thank you to everone who's been reviewing and alerting and favouriting so far :D got some new readers last chapter, very exciting!**

**I have my last exam on Tuesday, but the next chapter is pretty much ready to go, so I reckon (cause it's a short one) I'll post the next chapter on Sunday or Monday, and then chapter 14 on Tuesday evening :) Just as a little treat cause my exams will be over!**

**Let me know what you think won't you :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**First AN at the top, just to say to LiesTemptHer thank you very much for reviewing, and I'm very glad you like my story and allow PM's! Otherwise I can't reply to your review xD**

Origins

Chapter 13

By missrebecca

Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle from Isabella's destructive tendencies, two vampires meet in the dark. It is not a planned rendezvous, though one that has been a long time coming.

Their eyes reflect the limited light that filters through cracks in the old stone, glowing silver in the night. Rats scuffle in the walls behind them, accustomed to the unnatural inhabitants about them, yet other than them, there is not a sound.

"What do you want?" The older vampire asks, their deep voice reverbs off the cold stone, echoing through the gloom. They are relaxed, reclining against the wall, as though their un-dead heart is not in their mouth. This could be the end of everything.

"I know what you're doing, what you're planning," the second says. His voice does not waver, but his anxiety is palpable. One wrong word and he knows his head shall no longer be connected to his shoulders.

"Do you?" There is a smile in the words, one of condescension and arrogance that the younger man resents.

"Yes," he grinds out between sharp teeth.

"And what're you going to do? Turn me in? I'd decapitate you before you could even try."

The man sighs. "I'm not going to turn you in. I want to help."

Luminescent eyes squint in distrust. This vampire has been alone for a long time; he is not accustomed to relying on anyone, let alone putting trust in someone else to see his plot come to fruition.

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm as sick and tired of them as you are, they must be stopped." His voice is fevered, almost manic in his need to be believed. It is his fervour and truthful disposition that prompts the vampire to speak again.

"And what do you suppose you can do for me?"

"I hear everything; they can't hide anything from me. I can fight, too. You're strong, you could take them."

Before he has even finished his frantic rant the other vampire is shaking his head.

"I am not looking for an all-out fight. This is a war of attrition. I plan to wear down my enemy, until he is too weak to fight back."

The younger man is clearly eager, whether for blood or simply a demise of their shared quarry the older vampire is not sure. His desire, while not frightening, is a worry. But he will be useful, as an ally always is. The lack of an emotional attachment to him, with no trust or shared history, is only an advantage, should the boy die, the vampire shall feel not a shred of guilt.

"Fine," the vampire finally speaks, "Keep an ear out, I want weekly reports of what is going on in the castle."

"Of course." The young vampire looks about to leave, before he stops, turning back to his elder with a questioning glance. "I was wondering, what are you plans for the woman, Isabella?"

"She won't be a problem."

The younger is shocked. "You plan to kill her?"

"Of course not." Though the vampire does not raise his voice, the phrase is said with such passion, such disgust that the younger almost cowers against the wall. "I have other plans for her, she won't be an issue."

It is clear the younger vampire does not believe his new ally, but dare not argue for fear of decapitation. He skulks away, back into the dark, leaving the older vampire alone with nothing but his thoughts. He only hopes that his words to the boy were true, and that Isabella truly poses no threat to his cause.

* * *

**Well there we go, I wanted to update last night, but for some reason fanfiction wasn't letting me, though I think that was more my internet connection than anything else.**

**Anywho, I have my last exam on Tuesday, so nervous! But there will be an update that night after the exam :)**

**Let me know what you think, and wish me luck!**


	14. Chapter 14

Origins

Chapter 14

by missrebecca

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"Tell me something," Jasper says, running his fingers gently along Isabella's back. They are lying before the fire in his room, upon a bear-skin rug post make-up coitus, it is the seventh day in a row that they have felt the need to 'make-up'. Swallowing her pride was not the easiest of things to do, but she managed when the need to mate became an almost physical ache within her. Now, she wonders why she held out so long.

She pulls her long tresses over her shoulder and turns so they are face to face, mouths inches from each other. "Tell you what?"

"Anything."

Isabella ponders the question, running a finger against the grain in the bear's fur. "I enjoy modern music."

"How modern?"

"Very. I listen to the radio in my room every night, if I can, and dance to the latest top ten singles."

His laugh is low and husky, and he looks at her as though seeing her for the first time – it sends shivers through her long dead nerves. "Bizarre," he states. "Tell me something else."

"Sometimes I hate this place," she whispers it quietly. It is a secret and one she does not share lightly.

"Volterra, you mean?"

"Not Volterra – this castle, and those who reside within." He says nothing to her statement, only continues to run his fingers down her back. But she sees his eyes, sees the contemplation within; she wishes she knew what he was thinking.

"Tell me about your change?" he asks instead, changing the subject, and she lets him.

"Boring," she teases, "I was born here, grew up here, and after my twenty-third winter, Maria found me. She bit me, buried me in the ground where I died, and then left me to slaughter my village. See? Boring."

"You were born here?"

Isabella nods in reply to his question, before retorting with one of her own, spinning to lie on her back and allowing him to run his fingers along her breasts instead. "Tell me about you. I feel all I've done this week is talk about me. Tell me about your human life, and your change."

He shrugs yet does not stop his wandering finger tips. "I was born in 1844, just outside of Houston."

"That's Texas, right?"

"Right, I lived on a farm with my family, and my biggest aspiration was to take over when my Pa died. 'Course then the war came, and my older brother Wyatt and I went straight to enlist. As it turns out, I was made for it, ended up the youngest Major in the confederate army, at least until I died. You won't find me in any history books. Then, one night, I was out on patrol 'round Beaumont and came across these three women, one of whom was Maria."

"I think I can guess from there." Isabella sighs. The madness of her sire was renowned; Isabella was only glad she never saw her towards the end.

"She was crazy; surely you know what she was like: manipulative, controlling, and destructive too. Nothing was ever pushed far enough with her. Glad to be rid of her," he concludes.

Isabella only shakes her head, smiling sadly at her mate's naiveté. "You're so young, Jasper, and while I don't deny that you've suffered at her hand, there was so much more to Maria that made her that way."

"How can you defend her?" he asks, incredulous at the very idea of what Isabella is saying.

"She wasn't always so ruthless, and towards the end she was...mad."

"Vampires can't lose their minds," he states, sure of himself. Isabella, however, can see him wondering, and so she continues.

"Maria was an incredibly powerful vampire, but she was also half human. She bathed in blood, and eventually it worked to spin her mind. She had always been hungry for power, though in a way different to Aro, and in the later years, when the screams of her victims worked to torment her, she broke." She sighs, thinking of her own demons and the voices within her head. However, Isabella is all vampire; the part of her that was human is long gone, and she no longer feels any regret or sadness for her victims, no matter how much they try to convince her otherwise.

Jasper is sceptical, but she allows him his thoughts. He is young, but he will learn, eventually.

Gently, she runs her fingertips along his face, through the thin coating of pale hair to the scars which litter his throat. How many mated pairs has she met in her life? Thousands? And yet she never truly wished for that herself. The idea of someone she would spend eternity with was simply abstract. It was a ghost, a shadow of an idea. She never once believed there would be someone like Jasper for her. But here he is, looking at her with such lust-filled eyes that it takes her breath away.

A crash and gabble of voices from outside break through the silence of their room, and Isabella is shocked for she doesn't remember lowering her shield. The footsteps grow louder, and Isabella is on her feet, dressed and running from the room towards the source of the uproar. She sees Demetri and Felix struggling with someone in their arms. There are growls and profanities, yet the situation is still unclear. Then the struggling vampire's face becomes clear, and Isabella is only more confused.

"Afton," she gasps, causing his feral eyes to jump to hers.

Suddenly Jasper pulls her back, gripping her arms tight in his panic as Afton lunges for her. Demetri and Felix finally manage to pull him away and into the main hall. Isabella breaks free from Jasper's grasp, grabs onto his hand, and follows the crowd flowing behind the trio. Once in the hall, she chooses to stand beside Jasper, instead of her usual place at Aro's right-hand side.

The brothers are frantic as they come through the door; Isabella has never seen Caius so manic, and her worry only sky-rockets. The hall is full of mumbled conversation, causing it to thrum – the constant noise broken only by Afton's hostile growls. All falls silent, however, as Aro speaks.

"Corin is dead. Afton, you stand accused, how do you plead?" There is a tremor in Aro's voice, one Isabella has not heard in such a long time it sends a shiver of fright through her.

Afton is beyond rational thought and only writhes harder against his captors' grasp. Isabella's mind is spinning. Corin protected the wives, kept them content after the loss of Didyme. The side effects of her death will be far reaching and devastating, she knows.

"Edward," Marcus speaks, gesturing to the latest member of the Volturi guard.

After a beat of silence, the psychic speaks, "I'm not sure why, but he did it, and in full view of Sulpicia and Athenodora."

"Show me," Aro growls, grabbing tight to Edward's hand as he reaches the edge of the dais, before Aro releases him with a curled lip. Suddenly Aro is fluid, rapid in his movement as he races at Afton and rips his head from his shoulders. There is black blood spattered everywhere, and Isabella's eyes are wide as she stands frozen at her mate's side.

So lost is she as Afton's corpse is dragged to the furnace that she does not see the tense exchange between Edward and Jasper, and so does not realise that her shield is still down, protecting only her own mind.

* * *

**Lots of intrigue from the last chapter, some guesses as to who it was. But I'm not telling lol.**

**My exam's over, thank you so much for the good luck wishes, reckon it went quite well tbh :D.**

**Back to normal for the future updates, next one shall be Friday, and teasers go out with review replies. Of course, just let me know if you'd like to not be teased :).**


	15. Chapter 15

Origins

Chapter 15

by missrebecca

* * *

The Volturi library is vast and one of Isabella's favourite places in the castle. She is reading one of Chelsea's diaries, in which she wrote about the day she first met Isabella and the growing Volturi coven. It is amazing for Isabella to read her friend's inner thoughts, and she realises that she no longer mourns her passing. She only wishes that others could be so unaffected.

She frowns and closes the three-thousand-year-old text as she hears footsteps behind her. Athenodora has a small smile for Isabella as she sits beside her on the leather couch.

"I'm not speaking to my husband," she says in lieu of a greeting.

Isabella laughs lightly, turning to face Caius' wife. She has flame-red hair which falls almost to her waist. She is older than the brothers, but younger than Isabella, though the latter has a feeling it isn't by much. She is an Irish beauty, with a fiery disposition to match. While Corin's passing sends ripples, Isabella cannot help being happy that the wives are finally free of their tower.

"And why is that?" she asks.

Athenodora only sends her a look while smoothing at the royal blue dress she wears. "I know you had a lot to do with Corin being placed with us."

Isabella sighs, her part in their captivity weighing heavily on her mind. "I'm responsible for an awful lot in this castle, Dora, protecting you and Sulpicia and keeping you happy is one of my better decisions, wouldn't you say?"

Athenodora was older than Isabella when she was changed, so when she sends the brunette a quiet smile it looks maternal and causes an almost warm flush to pass through her. "You know I don't believe that."

Isabella shakes her head, disregarding her friend's concern. "Who's left so far?" she asks, instead.

Athenodora sighs. The Volturi castle is in disarray, Aro's world crumbling around his ears. With the loss of Chelsea, many of the vampires in his service have left, for they no longer feel a reason to stay. Now, with Corin dead, others are beginning to doubt the power which the Volturi command and are jumping ship.

"So far, Santiago, Renata, Carmen, the Amazonians and now Heidi have all left."

"Heidi's gone?" Athenodora only nods. Heidi was the only way they could bring humans into the castle to feed upon; without her, Isabella can imagine the Volturi not surviving this threat. She never imagined that she would really leave.

"Anyway," Athenodora says, attempting to clear the air, "I hear you've got yourself a...companion." Together they stand and walk from the library into the sunlit corridors.

"I suppose you could call him that. His name's Jasper."

Athenodora only nods. "You have the same sire," she states. "What's he like?"

"Troubled." At the other woman's questioning gaze, Isabella continues, "It's difficult to explain. We're growing closer, sharing ourselves, and I do believe that I love him. But there are times when a shadow passes across him. I worry that I can't trust him."

"We all feel like that at times. Give him time. Being who you are, it can be difficult for anyone to grasp to begin with. And you've only known each other five months, correct?"

"That's right, but Jasper doesn't know who I am here."

The redhead looks shocked; it is a large secret to have been kept quiet for so long, and one so integral to who Isabella is, not only here but in the outside world as well. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Eventually."

They come to a crossroads in the corridors, and Athenodora kisses Isabella's cheek gently before beginning down the right-hand turn. "I suppose I ought to forgive Caius," she says, smiling, before turning away and vanishing from sight.

Left alone, Isabella wanders towards the staircases that will lead out into the courtyard; however, as she begins her descent, she hears voices in front of her. She pauses to listen to their whispered conversation, pulling her shield in tight around her in order to keep herself shrouded from them. Unable to hear clearly, however, she moves down a step until the voices become clear, and then she is rooted to the spot.

"You've got to stop this," Alice hisses. "It's not just about you anymore. What about Isabella? What will she do?"

"There's no way she can be implicated in this," Jasper replies. "I've made sure of that."

"I'm not talking about implication, you idiot. I'm talking about heartbreak. Do you have no consideration of what it will do to her once you're caught?"

Jasper scoffs, and Isabella's confusion rises, having no clue as to what they could be talking about. "She'll be fine."

"No, she won't. Imagine if someone was to take her away from you, how you would feel." There is a pause, and Isabella imagines Jasper to be grimacing at the idea when Alice speaks once more, "Exactly. She's waited an awfully long time for you. Please don't make it redundant."

"Maybe I could tell her. She'd help, I'm sure. After what Aro said to her before, she must feel the same way."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I still can't believe you don't know who she is. I suggest you find out, and quickly, before deciding whether to continue with your suicidal task."

Once more Jasper scoffs, and Isabella creeps another two steps down towards their meeting spot. "Who can she be that's so important to what I'm doing?"

"Find out," Alice growls, clearly having enough of the conversation. "And stop this, you've done enough."

There is the tell-tale sound of Alice's whisper-light feet on stone as she whips off in the opposite direction, before Jasper follows at a slower pace. Isabella is frozen in place, confused and scared at what could possibly be going on. There is a warning in her mind that tells her she already knows; she just doesn't want to face the truth. However, she ignores it as she continues down the stairs and out into the courtyard. She needs to tell Jasper who she is, and fast.

* * *

**You know I really fucking hate being ill. This week was gunna be awesome, no more exams, I was gunna knit and write and chill the fuck out and it was sunny to boot! but no, I end up a horrible virus that leaves me praying to the porcelain gods for close to 12 hours.**

***sigh* Rant over.**

**I hope you like this, next chapter just needs betaing and I'll post it after work on Monday evening :)**

**Teasers go out with review replies :)**


	16. Chapter 16

Origins

Chapter 16

by missrebecca

* * *

Shadowy clouds roll in from the east, purple and grey they smother the sun, shrouding the courtyard in darkness. Almost three millennia in the highest tower of the castle, living like a princess locked away by her prince, Sulpicia relishes the fresh air. While she did not spend all her time in the castle, and of course she was brought out to feed, being out from under Corin's influence is like a breath of fresh air in of itself. Freedom is so often underrated.

Her steps are slow, soft on the cobbles. Her feet are bare, and her cloak skims the stone as she meanders. Her husband, Aro, did not seem at all happy to see her, though he tried to hide it, she always sees. But she will persevere and regain her place at his side. She _will_ be queen.

Athenodora was welcomed with such open arms by Caius, but they had always been such a sentimental couple. Sulpicia never quite understood it. One other benefit of being out of that high tower room she realises, being away from that foolish, Irish tramp.

There is a rush of air behind her, though so sound of footsteps to accompany the sudden chill, and so she continues. Entirely unaware of the vampire, breathing down her neck. They do not make a sound as they stalk their prey, listening to her hum and fidget with her ink black hair.

For but a moment they take time to almost regret their coming actions, but then the moment passes and their hands snatch out for Sulpicia's neck.

She is spun, and for a moment she sees her attackers face, their onyx eyes, so empty and blank she almost cannot believe it. Before her head is ripped from her shoulders, in a spray of blood like tar. Her murderer leaves without a backward glance, stepping over her stone grey legs as though they were nothing.

Alice and Isabella stroll in the shade, side by side, while the latter attempts to smother the echoes of the formers whispered conversation with her mate. There is a bleak sun in the sky, though in it there is not much heat, and it sheds meagre light upon the courtyard. Isabella enjoys its glow, now that the clouds have gone, during the ebb in their scattered conversation.

"Where shall you go?" Alice asks.

"When?"

Alice's smile is knowing, yet small as she speaks again. "When you leave here, with Jasper."

"Gods only know when that will happen. However," she continues before Alice can chastise her negativity, "I imagine we shall head to England. He hasn't been there, and I'd like for him to meet Carlisle."

"Perfect, they'll be around Berwick for a long while yet…not that you'll require that long."

Isabella sighs as they turn the corner. "I really wish you woul-" Her voice is cut off, stolen at what she sees before her.

She rushes to the body, whose limbs are spread-eagle about her. Grey hair, once beautiful black, spills from the decapitated head that lies just disconnected from her decaying body. Already her hands have turned to dust, and Isabella knows her body shall be soon to follow.

"Sulpicia," Alice gasps.

"Did you see this coming?" There is accusation in her voice as Isabella speaks. There may have been little love lost between herself and Sulpicia, but that does not mean that she believed her right to die.

From Alice's wide eyes and slowly shaking head, Isabella knows she had no prior knowledge of this act.

Isabella stands quickly, brushing the vampire dust from her trousers before she rushes back into the castle. As ever she refuses to knock on the door to the brother's office, instead barging in unannounced. They are all there of course, surrounded by the portraits of their lives.

"Sulpicia is dead," she says, in lieu of a greeting.

All noise and motion stops, before Aro collapses in his chair from sobs. Isabella leaves just as quickly as she came, needing to be with her mate, needing to tell the truth.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favourited this story!**

**Now, I hate giving clues, hate I enjoy having you all a little confused, but it's coming to an end. The next chapter, nearly all is revealed. Isabella's true colours will out.**

**Review replies come with sneak peaks, unless you'd like not to be, just let me know :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Origins

Chapter 17

by missrebecca

* * *

Flames dance in the grate, popping and hissing over thick logs as they are devoured, turning into nought but ash that spirals within the flue, before escaping into the star-filled night. Isabella is laid before the hearth, staring into the flames, though in her mind's eye she sees her human home, razed to the ground after she devoured all inhabitants. She is only broken from her thoughts by Jasper pushing through the door to their room.

"Where've you been?" he asks. "Been looking all over for you."

They have spent the past three weeks, since Isabella heard Jasper and Alice's clandestine meeting, together. Talking, laughing, mating, feeding, and enjoying the other's company, while Isabella attempted to work up the courage to expose her secrets entirely. However, she left his side for the first time today, choosing to retire to the room Aro has set up for them, a room which they have never used until now.

Her past is not a secret – it is known by many the world over – and yet she has never felt the need to be as explicit as she is about to be. There have always been others, ready and willing to spill her inner confidences, and so she has never truly had to tell this story on her own.

"I've been here, contemplating secrets," she begins, smiling as he frowns. She pats the space on the floor beside her, and he sits upon the sheepskin with barely a moment's hesitation. "I want to tell you a story, about me." Jasper frowns once more but nods for her to speak. She takes deep, unneeded breaths before she begins her tale.

The sun is blazing, so different to how she left this place, and she watches as the humans cling to the shade as the sweat pours from them. It is not an affluent area, though it is growing. With stirrings further north, and greater trade routes with neighbouring towns, Velathri is developing steadily, as can be seen by the continuing buildings being erected all around.

Isabella walks through the market, astounded that such a town could be built upon the ashes of hers. Velathri is like a phoenix, rising from the demise of a place which had no true name. She walks slowly, her feet bare upon the dusty streets. She is offered fruits, wines and exotic metals, which she denies. They think her an Empress, as she is wearing a purple draped gown, held only by bronze broaches upon her shoulders. No one wears purple besides the few who can afford it.

Continuing her ascent up the hill, to the temple which stands at the top, she reaches one pale hand up to tug at the shawl she wears about her long curled tresses. The white linen shades her face, keeping her bright red eyes hidden from the human population. As she pulls it down, one of the inhabitants knocks into her shoulder. It is a man, only slightly taller than her, with shoulder length black hair, tied from his face by a thin leather thong. He has a sharp nose, and a soft, clean shaven jaw, but his eyes see hers and widen at the red they observe. Then he is forgetting whatever had him barrelling into the square to usher her along a side street.

Isabella follows the strange human, watching as his shoulder and back muscles ripple beneath his tan, knee-length tunic. He is handsome, for a human, but her curiosity outweighs any attraction. This human recognises her for the creature of the night she is, and she wonders how many others like him are aware of the existence of vampires. The Dacians, who have been controlling the vampire race for almost two thousand years, will not be happy to know their secret is out.

Eventually the man turns; they have reached an unremarkable wooden house. It is small, and it is obvious that these humans are not well off. The man speaks before Isabella can say anything.

"You're a vampire," he says, his accent thick around the local dialect. Isabella only nods in reply. "Caius, Didyme!" he calls.

Two other humans emerge from the hut. Caius is obviously this human's brother. They share the same nose and soft jaw, but Caius is as fair as this man is dark. Didyme, like her brothers, has a sharp nose, and tumbling black hair that reaches her waist. All three are beautiful, and each look at Isabella with a strange anticipation.

"I'm Aro," the first human says. "Won't you come inside?"

Isabella says nothing, choosing only to step before the three into the hut from whence they came. She is aware that she should not be here, that she should have destroyed all three as soon as Aro had spoken, but she is so tired, so bored of her lonely existence. This is interesting; it has captured her attention when so little has been able to for so long.

Once they are settled inside the four-sided building, Aro begins to speak. He tells Isabella about his family, how their parents died when Didyme was but a babe, and how Aro took over his father's flocks. However, they are failing, they are destitute, and they mourn the life they have found themselves in. When Isabella asks how they became aware of her kind, they do not reply, which she allows – it does not matter.

Their objective in asking her to sit with them is clear; they wish to be like her. Like so many humans they want immortality, and power above those around them. Isabella is inclined to grant it to them. In all her years, she has never created another vampire before, and these humans interest her, especially Aro, the eldest.

She decides to stay with them. She shows them her way of life, and how she hunts and cleans up after herself. She explains the laws, though there is truly only one that matters – humans cannot know of the existence of vampires. Isabella answers all of their questions about the transition from human to vampire, about what it feels like when they arise from where they have been hidden. She explains the pain and torment one of her kind initially feels upon awakening, but that she will be there with them, to help soothe the ache for their human lives. Isabella does not plan on discarding her charges.

One month after her arrival in Velathri, she changes Aro and Caius. She drinks their blood, until there is but a drop left, before puncturing every major blood vessel and injecting her venom into their veins. Didyme then helps her bury them in the ground just outside the town's fortifications. Isabella stays standing above them the whole three days they burn underground, until eventually she helps them claw their way free.

Aro and Caius are stone grey, cracks showing in their now diamond-hard skin, and their eyes are completely black within their sockets. Isabella takes them back into town, where they feed upon two houses full of blood-filled humans, who scream and cry, and Isabella watches as Aro and Caius only smirk at the humans' pain, before finally they return to the house in which Didyme resides.

Another week passes before Aro changes his sister.

They take to their new life easier than Isabella expected, and before she knows it, a whole year has passed in this place. The humans know something is not right with the Volturi siblings, but they question nothing and show no resistance to them. A decade passes in the same fashion, and Aro is beginning to show ideas of grandeur. They have amassed power in their decade as immortals, lording over the humans in their town as gods do men. Aro does not wish to rule humans; they do not interest him. Instead he wishes to overthrow the Dacians rule of the vampire world. Isabella is once more inclined to help him.

"It must be subtle. You will not win in outright war," she says one night as they sit in the site upon which Caius wishes to build a castle. "I will head into the empire, scout for others. You would be amazed at how many are tired of the Dacians' tyrannical rule. We must show a united front, one of power, strength, and understanding, if we are to gain even a modicum of power."

The next day, Isabella leaves, with a promise to return in one year. During this time Caius begins work on their castle; it will be a show of their strength when more of their kind journey to them.

In the first six months alone, Isabella sends ten vampires into the Volturi coven. She spreads whispers of a powerful coven, with two gifted heads who will save the vampiric world from annihilation at the hands of the Dacians. When she returns, she finds the castle half-built and filled with twenty vampires, the largest gathering of those of her kind she has ever come across.

"Isabella," Didyme greets her, her smile as bright as ever. The aura of happiness that is her gift is radiating out, wrapping around Isabella's shield so tight she swears she can almost feel it. "I'd like for you to meet Marcus."

Marcus is a tall man, the top of Didyme's head reaching only his shoulder. He has chin-length, wavy, brown hair, and large red eyes sitting close to a roman nose. He has a contented smile upon his face as he reaches one hand towards Isabella, while his other stays wrapped tight in Didyme's much smaller palm.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Isabella. Didyme's told me so much about you. I believe it is you we should thank for all of this." He gestures to the fire-lit castle around them.

"Only partly," Isabella replies, returning his tight grip.

The decades turn into centuries as the castle is finished and the growing coven settles into their places. There are many talented vampires within what has become known as the Volturi castle, and each works with the others to keep the peace in the Roman Empire. They have yet to spread their reach farther, but as the humans populate the earth, venturing across seas, so do the Volturi. Velathri becomes Volaterrae, and finally the Dacians come.

They attack under cover of darkness. All is silent, and that is the only warning the Volturi receive before they are invaded. They come with caterwauls and screams, teeth gleaming in the darkness. They are older than many within the castle walls, and many are lost to the spreading bonfires. But the Volturi outnumber them three to one; it is a great advantage, and as the lark rings in the new day, there are only two Dacians left, Vladimir and Stefan.

They are led to the main hall, where upon a wooden plinth sit Aro, Caius, and Marcus. An order has been achieved, and Isabella is not resentful that she does not sit beside them. She knows who she is to them, and she is prepared to always remind them of that. They do not sentence the remaining Dacians to death, as the old rule would have done; instead they allow them to return to Proto-Dacia, with a warning that next time the Volturi will not tolerate treason.

Aro, Caius, and Marcus settle into leadership, but Isabella can see restlessness within Marcus and Didyme. They do not wish to remain within the confines of this castle, instead they want to enjoy their courtship, they want to be together away from this place, and Isabella supports them. This is why she speaks to Aro on their behalf; he denies their plight.

Two weeks later, Didyme is found beheaded on the outskirts of Volaterrae. Marcus slips away from them all; he blames Isabella for her death, though he knows whose hand it truly was that destroyed his love. It is the first time Isabella asks Chelsea to use her manipulative gift to keep Marcus with the brothers, for she knows that without him Aro will forget what he has done. Three weeks later, she sits with Caius in the highest tower of the castle, playing chess in the moonlight.

"They are distraught," Caius says, speaking of his wife, Athenodora, and Aro's mate, Sulpicia. "Frankly, so am I. I never would have thought…"

"None of us did. Aro is a wildcard, but he needs both you and Marcus, now more than ever. His guilt is palpable, but he believes himself justified. You cannot let the Volturi become the Dacians, you will not last, and I intended for you to last."

Caius frowns at his pieces before disregarding them. "You're leaving," he states. Isabella only nods. "I don't blame you. Will you be saying goodbye?" At her silence, he sighs. "Promise you'll come back, even if it's only twice a millennia. He needs you, too."

Isabella only nods before standing and leaping from the tower window, landing in a crouch in the courtyard below. Then she is running, the wind sailing by her, whipping leaves into her hair as rain pours down her cold skin. She runs until the pain is too much to bear and she stops, screaming into the silence. When she is composed, she runs once more, attempting to put as much distance between her and the Volturi castle as possible.

The fire is gone; in its place are only embers and smoke. Isabella dares not move her gaze from the black before her, for she fears Jasper's reaction to the confession. She knows how he feels about this place. He is a captive, rebellious and hating the regime that keeps him here. That she is responsible for it, that she _created_ it, she is sure will be too much for him.

He coughs; it is a human action that causes her eyes to flit to his. They are as black as the remains of the fire, and Isabella can feel his confusion and shock around them. It becomes her own, but she stops the automatic response to pull her shield closer to her. She deserves to feel his pain.

"Say something," she says, begging, another new response.

"I don't know what you want to hear." His voice is flat, dead. It says more than words ever could about his true feelings.

"Can you forgive me?" It is her biggest regret. That she created this coven of vampires, that it all spun so out of control. Yet in Caius, she found an amazing friend. And the Volturi castle, while it becomes a prison and reminds her of everything wrong she has done in her immortal life, it is almost a home for her – the closest she has ever come.

Jasper only shakes his head before standing and walking to the far wall. But he doesn't leave, and Isabella thinks maybe this secret isn't as bad as she first thought. However, he doesn't speak, and his hands are clenched to fists at his sides. Such tension radiates from him, Isabella stays where she sits, though all she wants is to comfort her mate.

"You created Aro and Caius?"

"And Didyme," she intersects.

"And everyone knows just what Aro is capable of?"

"Not everyone. Most that joined us in the beginning are no longer with us. But Chelsea knew, and the brothers know."

"Yet, no one does a thing to stop him? No one stops him from massacring whole covens for no reason, but wanting the one member with a gift? Did any of you think that maybe you should have left him, or allowed Marcus to behead him?"

Isabella is bereft on the stone cold floor. Of course they considered that, but it wouldn't have worked. "Marcus would never have harmed Aro; with Didyme gone, it was himself he would have destroyed. And you've seen Aro, but you don't know him. He is manipulative and clever. He would have amassed a second coven in the time it would take us to leave his castle, and then who would be left to control him?" Finally she steps towards him, reaching out a hand and waiting for him to take it. "I had no idea what I was creating in Aro, but he is a good leader, or he was, at least."

At last, Jasper turns towards her, taking her outstretched hand in his. His mind is tumultuous, but it is turning. Vampires, as a species, are able to amass great swathes of information in but a single moment, and Isabella knew it would not take him long to reach a conclusion.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, his dark eyes burning through her. "It was a decision you made three millennia ago, how could you have known how it would impact the world today?"

Relief is like a warm balm over Isabella's dead heart as she smiles at her mate. They have come far in the months since they first met, first mated and became one. There is trust between them, perhaps even love. She does not attempt to hide her joy from him. Yet Jasper does not smile. He is no longer radiating his emotions to her, and yet she knows he is still wary of her.

"Go," she says, "Feed. We'll talk later."

He leaves her with a swift kiss upon her brow, nothing else. Isabella sits back before the empty fireplace, feeling her heart fracture at the loss of him. She has no notion of how to make this right, but she will try.

Two voices, secret once more, whisper in the dark.

"Are you sure?" The first asks.

"Yes," the second replies, their impatience lacing the words, "Allow him to touch your skin and show him the truth."

"You'll be killed."

"No, he won't," a third voice joins the clandestine rendezvous. It is a woman, with an all-knowing lilt to her dulcet tones. "Tell him now, and all shall play out as it should."

"You will tell her?" The second voice speaks once more, uncertainty creeping into his tone.

"Of course."

"And what is your plan, exactly?" The first's voice is frantic; he does not think this is the correct course.

"She will be a distraction, and then I shall kill him, and be done with this place."

They disperse after he has spoken, though the third lingers on. Her eyes are wide and silver in the dark, vacant and yet seeing all simultaneously. She does not feel the need to tell him that his plans shall not go quite how he expects.

* * *

**Well...there you go. Only 1 person guessed at this (and told me about it, I'm sure there were others who saw this coming). **

**Let me know what you think won't you :)**

**Next chapter shall be up on Monday :D**


	18. Chapter 18

Origins

Chapter 18

by missrebecca

* * *

Isabella's fingers run whisper soft against the brick corridor wall in the newer part of the castle, but even with the slightest of touches, her diamond nails still leave four grooves in the wall. It has been an hour since Jasper left their room, and while a vampire's time is not recorded in seconds, minutes or hours, but in days, weeks and years, a whole hour without him by her side in this tumultuous time is far too much for Isabella to bear.

She is heading to the cellar, to where she imagines he still is, gorging himself on cask upon cask of tepid blood. She is anticipatory, excited to see him outside the tense confines of their room. Her hope is that things may blow over, that the worst of it is gone and perhaps they can simply get on with their lot within this castle. Maybe, she thinks, in one hundred years, Aro will even allow them to leave.

As she turns another right-hand corner, venturing down steps and back into the old stone castle, Alice erupts from a side door. Her eyes are glazed, yet strangely focused as they stare, unseeing into Isabella's eyes.

"Jasper," she intones her voice somnolent within her psychic state.

"What about him?" Isabella asks.

"They have him."

There is no need for Alice to speak further before Isabella is tearing back the way she came and into the main chamber. Her suspicions, though never confirmed, come to the forefront of her mind, spinning over every encounter she has had with Jasper, and wondering at how she is going to save him. Inside the hall, the brothers sit upon their thrones – Marcus bored, Caius worried, and Aro smug as he takes in Isabella's horrified face.

Jasper is standing in the middle of the room, his posture slumped and not at all like him. She attempts to pull him under her shield, but can't. Standing beside him is Alec, gripping Jasper's arm in order to incapacitate him and circumvent Isabella's protection. Jane is also in the hall, looking slightly confused beside Felix and Demetri. There is no one else there to bear witness.

"What is the meaning of this?" Isabella growls, teeth and fists clenched as she stalks towards the dais; no one attempts to stop her.

"I am sorry to be the one to tell you this," Aro begins, though it is clear he is anything but apologetic, "but your mate has been charged with treason."

"On what grounds?"

"He murdered Chelsea." Isabella does not flinch at the accusation; it is only one of her suspicions confirmed. "And manipulated Afton into destroying Corin. He murdered Sulpicia."

"As though you care!" Isabella growls, losing some of the control on her temper.

"She was my mate."

Isabella's laugh is low, dangerous and Caius averts his eyes from the goings on; this is between Isabella and Aro. "Spare me. She was nought but a plaything to you, created because you were bored and jealous of your brothers."

"Regardless, he has spread discord throughout this coven in order to bring down our rule. He must be punished."

"Your proof?" she asks, though she knows that Aro does not need proof to exact his judgement.

"Edward, come here." Aro's eyes do not move from Isabella's, daring her to overrule him. Their order was set up so long ago, but Isabella's thoughts are a whirl, wondering at how she is to prevent her mate's demise. She refuses to look behind her, to see Jasper's dead gaze; she refuses to believe that this could be the end.

The redheaded vampire meets the dais, but he does not look proud of what he has done. "Edward showed me what he has seen in your mate's thoughts; evidently, he believed you were keeping him hidden all this time. All we want is for him to confess." With a flick of his hand, he gestures for Isabella to move aside, which she does out of pure habit. "Jane," he orders.

Suddenly, Jasper moves, unlocked from the prison of his own mind by Alec. For a second, his eyes meet Isabella's - there is apology there, sorrow, but no regret - before Jane's power takes over and he screams in his imagined agony.

"Stop it!" Isabella's voice is loud, and Jane ceases her torment. However, Aro is persistent and urges her to continue, only stopping when Isabella's form slams into her.

"Stop this," she urges the younger girl, who obliges. Aro is her master, but Isabella has become so much more than that to her. She defies Aro in order to stop the hurt she is causing Isabella. In the brief interim, Jasper is back under Alec's control.

"He has been judged, Isabella, and he has been found guilty. You know the punishment. You've exacted it yourself enough times." Aro's eyes pass to Felix, who nods before stalking up to Jasper. Isabella is on him within a second.

"You won't touch him," she growls, before kicking him so hard he crumbles into the far wall. "No one moves," she warns, before turning back to the stoic brothers. "We need to talk."

* * *

**Christ I have been so out of it lately! My days are just running together, I feel like I only updated this like, this morning or something, not four fucking days ago.**

**Trying to do camp nanowrimo, in which I'm writing both a new Harry Potter fiction and a Twilight one (which I've been writing for about 9 months xD). Except I haven't even finished the last chapter of this yet, so yeah.**

**Anyway! The next chapter, which is the penultimate, shall be up in a couple of days. I won't leave you hanging too long.**

**Let me know what you think xo**


	19. Chapter 19

Origins

Chapter 19

by missrebecca

* * *

Aro wants to retire to his office, but Isabella won't let him run and hide. She encompasses them in her shield, cutting out background noise and strengthening it so no one may enter. Aro sits upon his throne, elbows on armrests, while his hands dangle to his thighs, so nonchalant while Isabella is burning with anxiety before him. She is not used to being so unsteady on her feet. Before this, she had been on even ground with Aro, or so she thought.

"I can't let you do this," she says, breathing deep to keep as calm as possible.

"There is nothing to be done, Isabella," he replies. His tone is once more as a father speaking to a child, as though she is absurd to even think she can dissuade him from his course.

"Your castle is falling around you. Your coven is split and half the size it once was. How do you think those who remain will think of you if you do this?"

"They will see me as their leader, one who does not tolerate treachery," Aro replies, sure of himself.

"You destroyed his coven," Isabella states.

"They were a danger. They had to be destroyed."

"But you kept him."

"He had information." Aro cocks his head to the side, taking in Isabella's bare feet, torn dress from where it snagged on a protruding wall screw, and her savage eyes. He relishes in her undoing. "Where is it you're going with this?"

"His actions will be seen as justifiable by some: rebellion against an old regime. If you kill him, you'll make him a martyr, and I will do everything in my power to assist in your demise."

The villain who sits before her has the audacity to laugh in her face. "You created us, you're responsible for us. You would never destroy us." His face regains its stoic expression, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Now, release us and allow me to pass judgement on this traitor."

Like a beam of light in a once pitch-black room, the answer to her worries shoots through her mind. She turns; wide eyed to Alice, who stands in the corner of the room, face in her hands. Isabella stares and watches as Alice nods her head, and she knows that what she is about to do is right. It was the inevitable conclusion, Aro said it himself; she created them, which makes him her responsibility.

In the back of her mind, she knew it would come to this. The events of the past few months have only solidified it in her mind. However, she never truly thought she would be exacting it.

Isabella drops her shield, allowing the shuffling in the hall to ripple across them; however, before Aro can speak, Isabella raises her voice without taking her ink black eyes from his.

"Aro Volturi, you have been charged with treason, how do you plead?"

All heads turn to them, eyes wide at her words, yet no one intercedes. This is a private dispute and everyone knows not to get involved. Aro sputters around a reply, caught off guard by the sudden role reversal.

"How did you reach that conclusion?" he finally sneers.

"Three thousand years ago, you murdered your blood-sister, Didyme, in order to keep her mate, Marcus here in this castle. You then ordered Chelsea to keep him loyal to you. You send scouts out into the world, following false accusations in order to procure the one individual which holds a power you wish to employ. Like Jasper."

"He was part of Maria's coven. They had to be destroyed," he retaliates, oblivious to the eyes now watching them with rapt attention.

"Maria was a first generation vampire, she was ancient and you slaughtered her. Jasper, here has the ability to modulate others' emotions, among other things."

Then there is a new voice in the hall, one which has not spoken to Isabella directly since Didyme died.

"Other things?" Marcus asks.

"Jasper is the next step in the evolution of our species, his strength is that of someone twice my age, but he is not even two hundred years old," Isabella answers, taking the time to look him in the eye before turning back to Aro. "You bear false witness against those of your own kind, you slaughter your own for nothing but personal gain, and you murdered your sister in cold blood. You are a traitor and the Volturi do not abide traitors. Your punishment is death. Any last words?"

But before he can speak, Isabella is moving. Her delicate hands enwrap his head, entwining in his flowing black hair, as her teeth saw through his neck and tear his head from his shoulders. The carcass slumps on the blood-spattered throne, turning stone grey as cracks form in the now brittle skin.

For only a moment all is silent behind her; before all hell breaks loose.

In the resulting chaos Isabella finds Jasper's hand, gripping as though their very lives depend on the connection, and they run. For the first time in three-thousand-years Marcus catches her eyes, she does not know what she sees in them, but she is grateful for the connection, before they break out into the sunlight, and vanish.

* * *

**Ah well then. Not much more to be said. The last chapter shall be posted on Friday evening after I finish work. Expect a rather epic auhtors note lol**


	20. Chapter 20

Origins

Chapter 20

by missrebecca

* * *

The sun pours down on them from their spot in the forests of northern England, twelve hours since they left Volterra behind them. Jasper's face is split in a grin, and Isabella watches as he admires the place they are in.

"I can't believe we're here." Jasper sighs, not for the first time.

"Well we are, so you can stop marvelling now," she laughs.

Jasper turns slightly, kissing the top of her head where it rests against his chest. "I'm sorry you had to do that."

She shrugs; unable to stop her mind from conjuring the image of Aro's bleeding form. "There was no other option. It's been coming for…a long time. Alice tried to warn me, and to be honest I'd known since I first set foot back there six months ago."

"Still, he was your creation. It can't have been easy."

"No," she finally admits, "it wasn't. But it was much easier than losing you."

They are silent, as the leaves rustle on the ground around them, before Jasper once again breaks it. "What happens now?"

"Caius will take over as leader, with the aid of Athenodora. But honestly, I don't know. The Volturi as a system has been undermined, although it's not like anyone else is vying for the position."

"I did wonder at that, if people will be competing for the chance to rule."

Isabella is shaking her head before he can finish speaking, staring out into the trees as she replies. "There is a reason the Volturi have upheld our rules for so long, it is a taxing undertaking, and most vampires cannot be in the same place for so long a time, cannot work together in the way that is needed."

"Makes sense." He is quiet for a moment, stroking stone fingers through her hair. It is relaxing, and Isabella's eyes close in order to enjoy the sensation. "I should apologise, for Chelsea."

"No you shouldn't, because you're not sorry. For the Volturi to fall, she always needed to die. While I wish…I wish that she hadn't, I've made my peace with it." Flipping her hair over her naked shoulder, Isabella turns in his arms, to face him and his haunted red eyes. "I have to know though, who was helping you? There's no way you could have done this by yourself."

A small smile appears at his lips, as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Alice always knew of my plans, though she only started aiding me when we, that's me and you, became intertwined. And Edward, the mind reader."

"How was he able to hide his thoughts? Aro touched him more than anyone else, seeking out everyone's secrets."

"He's simply very talented, and Aro was stupidly cocky."

Since they'd run, Isabella hasn't been able to get the image of Aro's headless corpse from her mind. But now, relaxing in the woods, her mind wanders, and questions come to the forefront. Some she will have time to be answered, but there's one that strikes her, something odd about the whole exchange in the castle.

"What was the initial plan? You were caught by Alec, so I can't help feeling that if Edward _was_ helping you, it seems a little counterintuitive for him to give you up."

By his merit, Jasper manages to look somewhat contrite as he replies. "That _was_ the plan, almost. Edward was to inform Aro of what I'd been doing, we'd been careful not to allow Edward to do anything but keep the focus off of me, and inform us about what people thought of everything that had been going on. Then, when I was brought in front of Aro, Alice told you where I was. You would run in, distract Aro, meaning I could kill him.

But we forgot about Alec."

"I was to be a distraction?" The idea sits uneasily within her. That he thought he could take that task from her, that she was to be used so flippantly.

"After finding out about you, about who you are to them, I didn't think you would ever help us."

Isabella smiles sadly. "You didn't trust me?" A shaking head is the only response he supplies. "Don't worry," she continues, "you will."

They are silent once more, listening as the birds settle closer in the trees to their hiding place. Isabella turns her back on Jasper, smiling in contentment when his arms come around her. There will be time for trust later.

"Are we free now?" he asks.

Isabella does not reply, only situating herself deeper into his naked embrace. She knows that while they may have left Volterra behind them, there are so many more dangers lying in wait. Jasper is the next step in vampires, and she is one of the last of an old way. They will need to tread carefully, inconspicuously, if they are to survive. However, Isabella is hopeful of their choices together, for she is sure they can weather the fallout once more.

-The End-

* * *

**There we are then, it's all over.**

**Okay, time for thanks. Huge thanks must go to my beta's from PTB, without them the initial 15,000 word one shot would never have been completed. And BIG thanks to Fairusa for beta'ing all the additional chapters of Origins...though not all of them cause I'm rubbish and forgot to send them to her xD. Thanks needs to go to Lacrimosa Moon, who through the Easter Bunny Fic Exchange gave me the initial prompt which sparked this. And also to vbfb1 for making me an amazing banner.**

**Also! Massive thanks to you! You wonderful readers. To my regular reviewers, and everyone who reviewed, favourited and set this to alert. Thanks to everyone who has pimped out this story, cause Lord knows I can't do it myself.**

**I really hope this ending satisfies you all :) It's taken me long enough to write it lol.**

**My next story should be **_Having Sex, with Bella Swan_**, if I ever finish it. There are five chapters so far, and I shall be hopefully writing a lot more in the coming weeks :) so watch this space :)**


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